ENGLISH  LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


NO 


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S8b( 


THE  KECOLLECTIONS 
OF  A  PLAYEK 


RECOLLECTIONS 
OF  A  PL ATE E 

BY 

J.  H.  STODDAET 
fliu8trate& 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTUKY  CO. 

MCMII 


ENGL,  LIB..FD. 

c 

Copyright,  1902,  by 
THE  CENTURY  Co, 

Published  October,  1902 


THE  DEVINNE  PRESS. 


TO    MY    DAUGHTER 
MARY  C.   STODDART 


-A  PEEFATORY  NOTE 

BY  WILLIAM  WINTER 

ON  a  memorable  night  in  the  dramatic 
season  of  1901-1902  the  comedian 
James  H.  Stoddart,  whose  book  of  theat- 
rical memories  is  now  submitted  to  the 
reader,  came  forth  at  the  Eepublic  The- 
ater, in  New  York,  and  astonished  the 
audience  with  a  great  performance.  The 
character  was  Lachlan  Campbell,  a  repre- 
sentative Scotchman— proud,  stern,  self- 
contained,  resolute,  deeply  religious,  ten- 
der, and  true— in  a  domestic  play  called 
"The  Bonnie  Brier  Bush,"  adroitly  con- 
structed out  of  episodes  in  the  writings  of 
that  fine  genius  Ian  Maclaren.  The  sea- 
son, although  busy  and  laborious,  had  not 
been  fertile  in  fine  things,  and  this  imper- 
vii 


A  PREFATORY  NOTE 

sonation,  extraordinary  for  sincerity,  ele- 
mental power,  and  overwhelming  pathos, 
came  upon  the  community  with  the  force 
of  a  revelation.  Spectators,  even  of  the 
most  hardened  kind,  suddenly  found  them- 
selves impressed  with  the  power  of  good- 
ness and  the  dignity  of  virtuous  human 
nature,  and  moved  beyond  control  by  the 
spectacle  of  strife,  in  a  good  man's  heart, 
between  the  sense  of  justice  and  the  sacred 
passion  of  paternal  love.  The  theme  is  sim- 
plicity itself.  The  actor's  treatment  of 
the  theme  was  that  delicate  exaggeration 
which  produces  the  perfect  effect  of  nature. 
A  result  so  uncommon,  gained  with  such 
facile  ease  and  by  means  so  simple, 
might  well  cause  surprise.  Since  that 
night  Mr.  Stoddart  has  been  recognized, 
by  multitudes  of  contemporary  playgoers 
who  were  almost  heedless  of  him  before, 
as  one  of  the  leaders  in  his  profession. 

Old  playgoers,  however,  were  not  aston- 
ished by  Mr.  Stoddart's  performance  of 
Lachlan  Campbell,  for  to  them  Mr.  Stod- 
dart had  long  been  a  leader.  Achieve- 
ments of  this  kind  and  actors  of  this  order 
viii 


A   PREFATORY   NOTE 

were  more  frequent  in  earlier  times  than 
they  are  now.  Survivors  of  the  genera- 
tion that  saw  Burton  and  Blake  in  their 
prime  and  Wallack's  Theater  in  its  best 
days  can  recall  a  period  when  exceptional 
models  of  acting  were  frequently  dis- 
played, and  when  the  stage  rarely  failed 
to  reward  attention  by  exhibitions  of  se- 
rious worth  and  memorable  importance. 
Burton  as  Captain  Cuttle  ;  Blake  as  the  Last 
Man;  Lysander  Thompson  as  Bob  Tyke; 
the  elder  Wallack  as  Eeuben  Glenroy  ;  the 
elder  Charles  Walcot  as  Touchstone;  the 
elder  Hackett  as  Monsieur  Tonson  and  Sir 
Pertinax  Macsycophant ;  John  Mckinson 
as  Haversac  ;  E.  L.  Davenport  as  William  ; 
John  E.  Owens  as  Caleb  Plummer  and 
Doctor  Pangloss ;  James  W.  Wallack,  Jr., 
as  the  King  of  the  Commons  ;  Lester  Wal- 
lack as  Charles  Surface,  Harry  Dornton, 
and  Sir  Oswin  Mortland ;  John  Sefton  as 
Crack,  Jemmy  Twitcher,  and  Silky  ;  William 
Warren  as  Sir  Peter  Teazle  ;  John  Gilbert 
as  Mr.  Dornton,  Lord  Ogleby,  Mr.  Oakley, 
Sir  Anthony  Absolute,  and  Master  Walter  ; 
Charles  Fisher  as  Goldfinch  and  Nicholas 
ix 


A  PREFATORY   NOTE 

Rue  ;  Henry  Placide  as  Grandfather  White- 
head  and  Corporal  Cartouche;  Charles 
Wheatleigh  as  Triplet;  Charles  W.  Coul- 
dock  as  Luke  Fielding ;  John  Brougham 
as  Dazzle;  Barney  Williams  in  "The 
Irish  Lion"  ;  and  W.  J.  Florence  in  "The 
Irish  Emigrant "  —  these  performances, 
and  many  more  like  these,  each  perfect 
in  its  way  and  all  admirable,  once  were 
things  of  every-day  occurrence,  and  supe- 
riority was  so  common  that  it  often  passed 
unnoted.  Those  were  the  days  when  Mr. 
Stoddart  came  upon  the  scene,  and  such 
were  some  of  the  competitors  among 
whom  he  made  his  way  and  held  his 
place. 

No  thoughtful  student  of  history  will 
indulge  in  wholesale  depreciation  of  the 
present  as  contrasted  with  the  past,  for, 
in  some  material  particulars,  the  world  is 
more  prosperous  and  comfortable  to-day 
than  it  ever  was  before ;  but  certainly  it 
is  true  that,  in  acting  as  well  as  in  liter- 
ature, fine  and  substantial  things— things 
having  in  them  the  grandeur  of  noble 
truth  and  the  fire  of  genial  passion— were 


A  PREFATORY   NOTE 

more  frequent  forty  or  fifty  years  ago 
than  they  are  now.  The  actor  of  the  old 
school,  as  he  is  commonly  called,  was  an 
actor  thoroughly  grounded  in  his  profes- 
sion, trained  by  experience,  equipped  at 
all  points,  able  to  do  many  things  well 
and  some  things  brilliantly,  and,  whatever 
may  have  been  his  defects,  solid  and  sta- 
ble in  character,  moderate  in  self-confi- 
dence, and  usually  modest  in  the  conduct 
of  life.  To  that  type  of  actor  the  influ- 
ences of  the  older  time  were  tributary, 
for  it  was  a  time  of  more  staid  ideas  and 
more  ceremonious  manners  than  are  now 
prevalent,  a  time  of  far  less  fever  and  of 
far  more  repose.  Mr.  Stoddart,  to  those  ob- 
servers whose  fortune  it  has  been  to  view 
the  stage  from  the  inside,  has  ever  been 
conspicuous  for  unpretending  worth,  un- 
failing geniality,  sweetness  of  tempera- 
ment, gentleness  of  bearing,  probity  of 
conduct,  and  patient  and  thorough  per- 
formance of  duty.  His  congenital  inher- 
itance was  fortunate,  and  his  early  sur- 
roundings favored  the  development  of 
such  a  character ;  for  the  stage  in  Scot- 
xi 


A  PREFATORY   NOTE 

land,  where  lie  passed  his  youth  and  had 
his  novitiate,  was  a  different  institution 
from  what  it  is  now— as  anybody  can  see 
who  will  read  Jackson's  "History"  and 
such  dramatic  memoirs  as  Gait's  " Lives" 
and  Bernard's  "Reminiscences."  The 
life  of  an  actor  in  those  days  had  to 
be  one  of  economy,  frugality,  toil,  and 
self-denial,  and  it  was  only  to  the  great 
lights  of  the  profession— and  not  always 
to  them— that  any  social  consideration 
was  accorded.  The  Kemble  period  in 
Great  Britain  had  just  passed  away,  and 
the  Macready  period  was  just  coming  in, 
when  Mr.  Stoddart  (now  in  his  seventy - 
fifth  year)  began  his  apprenticeship  to 
acting.  The  eccentric  Mr.  Alexander— 
he  who  placed  his  own  bust  between  those 
of  Shakspere  and  Garrick  in  the  front 
of  his  Glasgow  theater,  and  whose  elabo- 
rate tomb,  with  its  theatrical  drop-curtain, 
can  be  seen  in  the  Glasgow  necropolis— 
was  the  principal  manager  in  Scotland, 
and  "stars  "  such  as  Murray,  Farren,  and 
Munden  were  roaming  over  the  land.  Mr. 
Stoddart,  born  at  Barnsley,  Yorkshire, 
xii 


A  PREFATORY   NOTE 

England,  October  13,  1827,  was  early 
trained  to  the  theater  by  his  father,  a 
good  actor  and  a  good  man,  and  up  to  his 
twenty-seventh  year,  when  he  emigrated 
to  America,  was  rigidly  schooled  in  the 
study  and  practice  of  his  art  at  many 
places  in  the  British  Kingdom,  particu- 
larly in  the  northern  towns  of  Scotland, 
in  Yorkshire,  and  in  Liverpool.  In  1854 
he  crossed  the  sea,  and  on  September  7  of 
that  year  he  appeared  at  Wallaces  The- 
ater, beginning  a  career  before  the  Amer- 
ican public  that  has  lasted  close  on  half  a 
century  and  been  steadily  attended  with 
honorable  renown.  Phases  and  associa- 
tions of  that  career  are  recorded  in  this 
book,  and  the  reader  will  find  it  equally 
an  exposition  of  character  and  a  document 
in  theatrical  history. 

Theatrical  memoirs  in  general  are 
dreary  compilations,  abounding  in  dates 
and  trivialities,  and  when  they  are  autobi- 
ographical they  are  commonly  prodigious 
as  ebullitions  of  overweening  egotism. 
It  is  seldom  that  an  old  actor,  writing 
about  the  past,  records  anything  of  value 
xiii 


A   PKEFATOKY   NOTE 

concerning  his  contemporaries,  or  any- 
thing calculated  to  cast  a  light  upon  any 
interesting  aspect  of  the  times  through 
which  he  has  lived.  Gibber's  book  "The 
Apology "  remains  unrivaled  for  vital 
portraiture  of  fine  and  famous  persons 
with  whom  he  was  associated.  The  elder 
Bernard's  book  is  excellent  for  authentic 
chronicles  and  sprightly  anecdote.  Jef- 
ferson's book,  in  our  own  time,  is  excep- 
tional for  spontaneous  manifestation  of 
the  writer's  sympathetic  temperament, 
sweet,  playful  humor,  and  philosophic 
husbandry  of  peace  and  happiness  amid 
the  vicissitudes  of  a  turbulent  age.  But 
most  of  the  numerous  and  frivolous  writ- 
ings of  actors  could  well  be  spared.  The 
memoirs  that  the  world  needs,  for  its 
guidance  and  help,  are  those  of  the  men 
and  women  who  are  genuine,  who  have 
borne  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day, 
who  have  helped  to  strengthen  and  beau- 
tify the  passing  life  of  their  generation, 
and  who  write,  not  from  vanity,  but  from 
the  impulse  of  kindness  and  service.  Mr. 
Stoddart  was  not  easily  persuaded  to  give 
xiv 


A   PREFATOKY   NOTE 

these  reminiscences,  and  although  wishful 
to  heed  the  request  of  his  children,— that 
he  would  make  for  them,  as  a  precious  leg- 
acy, some  account  of  his  life,— it  was  not 
till  strongly  urged  by  the  present  writer 
that  he  consented  to  undertake  this  task. 
Such  persuasion  was  warranted,  for  no 
actor  was  ever  more  genuine  than  Mr. 
Stoddart,  and  no  professional  life  was 
ever  more  exemplary  than  his  of  the  ad- 
mirable virtues  of  perseverance,  self-de- 
nial, sincerity,  fidelity,  purity,  and  truth. 
The  counsel  upon  which  the  veteran 
finally  acted  was  that  he  should  write 
freely,  as  if  in  a  letter  to  an  old  friend, 
whatever  of  the  past  he  might  happen 
to  remember ;  and  in  so  writing  he  has 
made  old  days  to  live  again,  and  voices 
to  speak  once  more  that  have  long  been 
silent,  and  faces  to  smile  upon  us  that  have 
long  been  cold. 

In  deference  to  Mr.  Stoddart's  judg- 
ment and  in  compliance  with  his  desire 
these  words  are  written  to  introduce  his 
book— a  book  which  really  requires  no 
introduction,  and  to  which  no  indorse- 
xv 


A  PREFATORY   NOTE 

ment  can  impart  a  greater  than  its  in- 
trinsic value.  It  is  the  cursory  record  of 
a  good  life,  the  natural  expression  of  a 
manly  and  lovable  character,  and  in  some 
ways  it  is  an  illuminative  side-light  upon 
an  old  theatrical  period— a  time  of  rare 
interest  to  those  who  watch  the  dramatic 
movement  in  literature  and  society,  and 
trace  the  action  and  reaction  of  civiliza- 
tion and  the  stage.  It  is  fortunate  that 
the  work  of  writing  this  record  was  not 
too  long  deferred.  In  two  instances— 
that  of  George  Holland  and  that  of  John 
Brougham— the  present  writer  earnestly 
and  often  urged  the  need  and  the  fair 
occasion  of  an  autobiography,  and  at 
last  both  those  veterans  attempted  the 
labor;  but  Holland  had  postponed  the 
effort  till  he  was  too  old  to  make  it, 
producing  only  a  trivial  fragment  of  less 
than  a  hundred  pages ;  and  Brougham, 
when  he  began  to  write,  was  so  ill  that 
he  could  produce  only  a  few  chapters 
—a  mere  beginning  to  what  might  have 
been  the  dramatic  chronicle  of  half  a 
century,  teeming  with  brilliant  men  and 
xvi 


A  PREFATORY   NOTE 

women  and  opulent  with  feeling  and 
mirth.  Mr.  Stoddart's  youthful  spirit, 
buoyant  and  genial,  serves  him  now, 
in  the  evening  gray,  as  readily  and  as 
amply  as  it  did  in  the  morning  gold, 
and  his  memoir  has  been  written  with 
spontaneous  earnestness,  simple  candor, 
and  homelike  grace.  Much  of  it  is  in 
outline  ;  but  sometimes,  as  in  a  poem  by 
Heine  or  a  landscape  by  Corot,  the  out- 
line is  suggestive  of  the  complete  painting ; 
and  no  part  of  it  is  tedious.  In  his  writ- 
ing, as  in  his  acting,  it  is  the  sketch  that  is 
achieved  rather  than  the  elaborate  fabric 
of  complex  art.  One  of  this  comedian's 
most  representative  triumphs  on  the  stage 
was  gained  in  Dion  Boucieault's  play  of 
"  The  Long  Strike,"  as  the  old  lawyer, 
Mr.  Moneypenny,  a  man  outwardly  crabbed 
but  inwardly  tender,  comic  in  his  garb  of 
morose  selfishness  but  winning  in  his 
abundant  humanity ;  and  whoever  saw 
that  performance  (first  given  many  years 
ago  at  Laura  Keene's  Theater)  saw  the 
"  picture  in  little  "  of  those  attributes  of 
the  actor  that  have  made  him  great ;  for 
xvii 


A   PBEFATOKY   NOTE 

greatness  in  dramatic  art,  meaning  the 
summit  of  excellence  in  interpretative  ex- 
pression, is  simplicity,  and  of  simplicity 
Mr.  Stoddart  possesses  the  absolute  com- 
mand, touching  equally  the  springs  of  hu- 
mor and  pathos,  winning  affection  as  well 
as  admiration,  and  thus  fulfilling  the  best 
purpose  of  all  art,  which  is  to  bless  hu- 
man life  with  the  gracious  memory  that 
makes  it  calm  and  the  noble  incentive 
that  makes  it  beautiful. 

MENTONE,  CALIFORNIA, 
August  10,  1902. 


xviii 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

J.  H.  Stoddart   ....        Frontispiece 
From  a  photograph  by  Jansen,  Buffalo. 

FACING  PAGE 

Charles  Fisher 8 

From  a  photograph  by  Sarony. 

J.  B.  Buckstone 16 

From  an  engraving. 

Charlotte  Cushman 24 

From  a  photograph  by  Sarony. 

Charles   James  Mathews,   Jr.,   as  George 

Rattleton 32 

From  an  engraving  by  G.  Adcock  from  the 
painting  by  R.  W.  Buss. 

James  H.  Stoddart,  Sr 40 

From  a  photograph. 

Playbill  of  Royal  Amphitheater,   Liver- 
pool, Wednesday,  September  28, 1853    48 

Playbill  of  New  Adelphi  Theater,  Isling- 
ton, Wednesday,  July  26,  1865      .         56 

Playbill  of  Theater  Royal,  Covent  Garden, 

Monday,  October  24,  1814  ...     64 

James  W.  Wallack 72 

From  a  lithograph. 

xix 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING  PAGE 

John  Brougham 80 

From  a  photograph  by  Sarony. 

Mary  Taylor 88 

From  a  daguerreotype. 
George  Holland 92 

From  a  photograph  by  Gurney. 

John  T.  Raymond 96 

From  a  photograph  by  Sarony. 

Joseph  Jefferson 100 

From  a  photograph  by  Houseworth. 

Mrs.  J.  H.  Stoddart  in  "  Rule  a  Wife  and 

Have  a  Wife"         ....       104 

From  a  photograph. 

Agnes  Robertson  (Mrs.  Boucicault)   .        .  108 

From  a  photograph  by  J.  Gurney  &  Son. 

Edwin  Booth 116 

From  a  photograph  by  Sarony. 

Frank  Chanfrau 124 

From  a  photograph  by  Sarony. 

Playbill  of  Olympic  Theater,  New  York, 

Monday,  May  15,  1848    ...       128 

Laura  Keene 132 

From  a  photograph. 

William  Mitchell 136 

From  an  etching. 

Playbill  of  Olympic  Theater,  New  York, 

Tuesday,  January  12,  1864 .        .        .140 

Mr.  Stoddart  as  Moneypenny  .        .        .       144 

From  a  photograph  by  F.  W.  Bacon. 
XX 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING  PAGE 

John  Gilbert 148 

From  a  photograph  by  Brady. 

Lester  Wallack 156 

From  a  photograph  by  Falk. 

Mrs.  Vernon 164 

From  a  photograph  by  J.  Gurney  &  Son. 

Charles  R.  Thorne,  Jr.,  as  Count  De  Vernay 

in  "Rose  Michel ".        ...       172 
From  a  photograph  by  Sarony. 

Henry  James  Montague       ....  176 
From  a  photograph  by  Sarony. 

Charles  Coghlan 184 

From  a  photograph  by  Falk. 

John  Parselle 196 

From  a  photograph  by  Marc  &  Schlum. 

Sara  Jewett 204 

From  a  photograph  by  Sarony. 

Dion  Boucicault 216 

From  a  photograph  by  Bradley  &  Rulofson. 
Mrs.  John  Wood 224 

From  a  photograph  by  Sarony. 
Charles   L.  Harris   as  Squire    Tucker   in 

"Alabama" 232 

From  a  photograph  by  Thors. 
C.  W.  Couldock 236 

From  a  photograph  taken  December,  1891,  by 
J.  F.  Ryder,  Cleveland,  Ohio. 

A.  M.  Palmer 240 

From  a  photograph  by  Falk. 


XXI 


THE  KECOLLECTIONS 
OF  A  PLAYEE 


THE  RECOLLECTIONS 
OF  A  PLAYER 


IT  was  on  the  thirteenth  day  of  October, 
1827,  in  the  town  of  Black  Barnsley, 
Yorkshire,  England,  that  I  made  my  first 
appearance  on  this  world's  stage.  My  fa- 
ther, although  not  theatrically  connected, 
having  been  brought  up  on  a  farm,  became 
in  after-time  a  well-known  and,  I  think,  a 
very  fine  actor.  A  Scottish  nobleman, 
the  Earl  of  Hopetoun,  had  an  estate  some 
distance  from  Moffat,  in  the  parish  of 
Johnstone,  Scotland.  He  numbered  among 
his  tenant  farmers  many  Stoddarts,  and 
my  father  could  lay  claim  to  relationship 
with  almost  all  of  them.  He,  however, 
did  not  seem  to  fancy  milking  cows  and 
following  the  plow,  and  so  he  made  his 
3 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

way  to  Glasgow,  where  he  was  apprenticed 
for  seven  years  to  learn  the  carpenter's 
trade.  In  those  days  a  person  was  deemed 
fortunate  who  had  learned  a  good  trade. 
My  father  became  a  constant  frequenter 
of  the  theater,  and  in  a  short  time  he  was 
thoroughly  stage-struck.  He  joined  an 
an  amateur  theatrical  association,  and, 
after  having  served  his  apprenticeship, 
went  to  England,  where  he  succeeded  in 
getting  an  engagement  in  a  regular  the- 
ater. He  remained,  to  the  end  of  his  days, 
an  actor. 

There  were  at  that  time,  in  England, 
routes  known  as  "theatrical  circuits"— 
among  them  the  Huggins  and  Clark,  the 
Fisher,  and  the  Robertson  circuit.  Each 
of  these  consisted  of  about  four  country 
towns,  and  three  months  were  spent  in 
each.  Salaries  were  small,  but  the  princi- 
pal performers  had  a  benefit  in  each  town ; 
and  as  actors  were  employed  the  year 
round,  and  played  only  three  nights  a 
week,  it  was  far  from  being  an  uncomfor- 
table sort  of  life.  On  the  non-play  nights 
the  actors  would  meet  their  friends— and 
4 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYER 

they  had  many— at  some  country  tavern, 
and  there  enjoy  themselves  in  telling  sto- 
ries, singing  songs,  and  smoking  their  long 
clay  pipes,  the  barmaid  meanwhile  fre- 
quently renewing  their  mugs  of  ale. 

It  was  in  the  Yorkshire  circuit,  managed 
by  Huggins  and  Clark,  that  my  father  first 
made  his  professional  bow,  and  it  was 
there  also  that  he  first  met  my  mother, 
Mary  Pierce.  Thomas  Pierce,  her  father, 
familiarly  known  by  the  diminutive 
"Tommy,"  had,  with  his  daughter  Mary, 
been  associated  with  the  Yorkshire  cir- 
cuit for  many  years  ;  and  in  the  four  towns 
annually  visited  old  "Tommy"  Pierce 
was  as  well  known  as  any  native  inhabi- 
tant. He  passed  nearly  all  his  life  in  the 
Yorkshire  circuit,  amusing  a  simple  lot  of 
people,  and  was  much  respected.  I  sup- 
pose one  of  these  circuit  companies  would 
now  be  regarded  as  a  lot  of  barn-stormers  ; 
but  those  actors  were  happy,  contented, 
and  respected  people,  and  in  the  towns 
they  visited  yearly  had  hosts  of  expectant 
friends  to  meet  and  welcome  them. 

The  Fisher  circuit  was  thought  to  offer 
5 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

a  desirable  situation,  it  being  managed  by 
the  parents  of  my  old  friend  Charles 
Fisher.  He  and  I  dressed  together  for  a 
number  of  years  at  Wallack's  Theater  (the 
Thirteenth  Street  house),  and  he  would 
often  speak  of  those  early  days  when  he 
used  to  play  the  fiddle  in  the  orchestra  of 
his  father's  company,  and,  having  dressed 
for  his  part  beforehand,  would  throw  a 
cloak  over  his  costume  and  take  his  place 
with  the  band,  and  then,  after  the  over- 
ture was  ended,  return  to  the  stage  and 
his  part. 

While  we  were  at  Wallack's  his  great 
wish  was,  he  said,  to  return  to  the  place 
of  his  birth  and  pass  the  evening  of  his 
days  where,  years  before,  he  had  been  so 
happy.  He  did  return,  and  I  was  told  he 
found  everything  so  changed,  so  unlike 
what  he  had  expected,  that  he  came  back 
to  America  after  a  short  visit,  and  not 
long  afterward  he  died  in  New  York, 
June  11, 1891.  Mr.  Joseph  Jefferson,  Mr. 
Charles  W.  Couldock,  and  I  saw  him  laid 
to  rest.  I  had  ample  opportunity  of  know- 
ing Fisher  intimately,  and  I  regarded  it 
6 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEE 

as  a  great  privilege  to  be  so  closely  associ- 
ated with  one  so  talented,  so  modest,  and 
so  good.  Every  one  loved  Charles  Fisher. 

The  Eobertson  circuit  was  thought  to  be 
of  more  importance  than  the  others  men- 
tioned. It  certainly  produced  actors  of 
great  distinction  in  Mr.  Tom  Eobertson 
the  dramatist  and  his  talented  sister  Miss 
Madge  Eobertson,  now  Mrs.  Kendal. 

My  father,  having  married  Miss  Mary 
Pierce,  thought  it  prudent  to  seek  his  for- 
tune in  some  wider  field  than  the  York- 
shire circuit,  and  he  succeeded  in  procur- 
ing an  engagement  for  himself  and  wife  in 
Manchester.  They  also  played  in  Liver- 
pool, Newcastle,  Dublin,  and  Belfast,  and 
in  most  of  the  smaller  towns  of  England. 
Time  brought  them  a  large  family,  seven 
boys  and  three  girls.  The  girls  and  two 
boys  died  in  infancy,  leaving  George, 
James,  Eobert,  Eichard,  and  Benjamin,  all 
of  whom  attained  to  manhood  and  adopted 
the  stage  as  a  profession,  each  in  his  time 
playing  many  parts.  For  years  we  wan- 
dered through  the  small  English  towns, 
encountering  the  ups  and  downs  of  theatri- 
7 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

cal  life,  and  being  far  oftener  down  than 
up.  Alas !  all  now  are  dead,  leaving  the 
writer,  at  seventy -four,  only  the  remem- 
brance of  loving  brothers  and  of  affection- 
ate parents,  who,  amid  all  their  struggles 
and  hardships,  ever  tried  to  secure  the 
comfort  and  happiness  of  their  boys— 
parents  who  on  many  occasions  deprived 
themselves  of  common  necessaries  in  order 
that  their  lads  might  have  all  the  more. 

I  often  think  of  the  days  when  we  were 
all  "wee  chaps"  tramping  through  Eng- 
land and  Scotland,  scantily  clothed,  pos- 
sessed of  huge  appetites,  many  times  lack- 
ing the  means  to  appease  them ;  and  yet 
those  days  stand  out  as  among  the  happi- 
est of  my  life.  What,  indeed,  would  I  not 
give  to  recall  them  ? 

Mr.  John  Henry  Alexander,  or  "old 
Alec,"  as  the  boys  in  Glasgow  were  wont 
to  call  him,  was  the  most  eccentric  char- 
acter known  to  the  theatrical  profession. 
JSTo  one  who  had  not  seen  them  would 
believe  the  extraordinary  things  that  oc- 
curred under  his  management.  The  ap- 
pearance of  the  man  was  comic.  His  nose 
8 


Charles  Fisher. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

and  chin  nearly  met.  His  voice,  once 
heard,  could  never  be  forgotten,  or  mis- 
taken for  that  of  any  other  person.  If  he 
appeared  in  the  street  he  was  "the  ob- 
served of  all  observers."  He  was  a  capital 
actor  of  Scotch  parts,  and  very  funny  in 
all  that  he  did.  His  style  being  so  marked, 
so  peculiarly  his  own,  there  was  never 
any  mistaking  the  man.  Alec  began  his 
theatrical  career  in  the  most  humble  way. 
He  had,  however,  wonderful  perseverance 
and  energy.  His  first  performances  in 
Glasgow  were  given  in  a  loft.  Although 
he  was  laughed  at  and  quizzed,  nothing 
could  daunt  him.  He  held  his  own,  and 
became  not  only  the  manager  but  the 
proprietor  of  the  most  gorgeous  theater 
outside  of  London.  It  was  somewhat  flam- 
boyant in  decoration,  but,  in  its  way,  an 
ornament  to  Dunlop  Street,  where  it  was 
situated.  Few  visitors  to  Glasgow  would 
leave  the  city  without  taking  a  peep  at 
Alec  and  his  theater.  There  he  played  all 
sorts  of  parts,  including  tragedy,  comedy, 
burlesque,  and  farce,  and  he  even  sang 
comic  songs  and  danced  sailors'  hornpipes 
9 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

between  the  pieces.  No  one  would  believe 
that  a  man  could  make  himself  so  ridicu- 
lous who  had  not  actually  seen  Alexander. 
He  used  to  play  William  in  "  Black-eyed 
Susan,"  and  he  always  danced  a  hornpipe 
—the  boys  in  the  gallery  crying  the  while, 
"Go  it,  Alec  !"  and  whistling  "Jack  's  the 
Lad/'  or  bawling,  "Gie  us  Alec's  step !" 
Every  one  knew  Alec's  step  and  always 
vociferously  applauded  it,  compelling  him 
to  repeat  the  dance  several  times.  He  had 
no  idea  of  dancing,  but,  as  he  passed  the 
leader  of  the  orchestra,  he  would  shout  to 
him,  "Quicker,  quicker !  for  I  'm  around 
the  stage  like  lightning  ! "  the  members  of 
the  band  being  scarcely  able  to  control 
their  laughter.  The  exterior  of  his  thea- 
ter was  handsome.  Three  statues,  well 
executed,  as  large  as  life,  were  placed  in 
front,  at  an  elevation.  Shakspere  was  in 
the  center,  Garrick  on  one  side,  and  Alex- 
ander himself  on  the  other.  In  pointing 
to  them  Alec  would  say :  "There,  sir,  is 
Shakspere  ;  there  is  Garrick  ;  and  there  is 
John  Henry  Alexander— as  great  a  man  in 
his  way  as  any  of  them." 
10 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

My  father  and  Alexander  had  been  boys 
together,  and,  as  fellow-apprentices,  had 
"served  their  time  "  in  Glasgow,  and  were 
close  companions.  They  had  also  entered 
the  theatrical  profession  in  the  same  year. 
Alexander  prospered ;  my  father  did  not. 
We  were  getting  on  so  badly  in  England, 
and  our  prospects  were  so  dark,  that  a  let- 
ter was  at  last  sent  to  Scotland,  applying 
to  Alexander  for  an  engagement.  His 
reply  was  awaited  with  anxiety,  as  my 
father  had  made  us  understand  that  Alex- 
ander and  himself  had  been  comrades, 
having  even  stood  together  at  the  theater 
doors,  begging  pass-out  checks,  in  order 
to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  much-desired  play. 
Later  they  had  belonged  to  the  same  ama- 
teur club.  My  father  was  sure,  therefore, 
that  his  old  friend  would  be  glad  to  engage 
both  my  mother  and  himself.  My  mother 
felt  that,  as  Alexander  was  a  great  man 
now,  he  might  have  forgotten  his  boy 
friend,  and  therefore  she  was  not  so  san- 
guine. Poor  mother  generally  looked  on 
the  dark  side  of  things,  while  my  father 
was  extravagantly  optimistic. 
11 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYEK 

One  day  my  brother  George  came  run- 
ning into  the  house  with  a  letter,  shouting, 
"It  is  from  Glasgow,  from  Alexander." 
And  so  it  proved  to  be.  It  was  a  friendly 
letter  saying  that  the  writer  would  be  glad 
to  receive  my  father,  but  could  not,  at 
present,  avail  himself  of  my  mother's  ser- 
vices. "Never  mind,  Mary,"  said  my 
father  ;  "my  salary  will  keep  the  pot  boil- 
ing, and  you  will  be  fully  employed  at- 
tending to  the  youngsters." 

"We  hurriedly  packed  and  made  arrange- 
ments for  immediate  flight.  A  bargain 
was  struck  with  the  carrier,  who  provided 
a  common  means  of  conveyance  in  those 
days,  often  used  by  persons  not  over  well- 
to-do.  The  carrier's  wagon  had  a  large 
canvas  cover  to  protect  passengers  from 
bad  weather,  and  also  plenty  of  straw  in- 
side to  keep  all  dry  and  warm.  We  laid 
in  a  basket  of  provisions,  and,  bundling  in, 
we  started.  The  carrier's  wagon  was  not 
to  be  despised,  if  a  traveler  could  not 
afford  to  take  passage  in  the  mail-coach. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  the  journey  occupied 
almost  a  week.  We  arrived  in  Glasgow 
12 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYEK 

in  due  course,  and  sought  Alexander,  who 
seemed  very  glad  to  see  us.  My  father's 
salary  was  fixed  at  two  pounds  per  week, 
not  a  large  sum  for  the  needs  of  so  large  a 
family,  but  when  my  father  mentioned  the 
amount  we  all  thought  it  a  fortune.  Alex- 
ander had  again  expressed  his  regret  that 
he  had  nothing  to  offer  my  mother,  but, 
remembering  "auld  lang  syne,"  and  wish- 
ing to  help  father,  he  proposed  to  en- 
gage the  young  masters  Stoddart,  whom, 
he  said,  he  would  use  as  frequently  as  the 
plays  would  permit,  for  children's  parts, 
pages,  etc.  So  it  was  arranged  that,  irre- 
spective of  age,  we  should  each  receive  one 
shilling  a  performance  when  we  acted 
speaking  parts,  and  sixpence  when  we  ap- 
peared in  silent  ones. 

The  varied  and  extensive  repertory  of 
my  brothers  and  myself  under  this  shil- 
ling and  six-penny  arrangement  would 
scarcely  be  credited.  "When  we  entered 
on  our  career  with  Alexander  our  tender 
years  confined  us  to  children's  parts,  but, 
with  advance  of  time,  we  were  put  on  in 
the  tragedies  as  pages,  in  the  nautical 
13 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

pieces  as  young  sailors,  and  in  the  melo- 
dramas my  brother  George  and  I,  when  we 
had  reached  the  age  of  ten  and  eight  re- 
spectively, were  to  be  seen  as  bloodthirsty 
young  ruffians,  wearing  our  own  light  hair, 
but  with  villainous  black  beards,— done  in 
cork,  frequently  by  Mr.  Alexander  himself, 
—fighting  fierce  combats  at  the  rear  of  the 
stage.  Alexander  would  say,  "There,  that 
will  do  ;  now  go  along.  There  are  young 
ruffians,  you  know,  as  well  as  old  ruffians." 
We  got  to  be  known  as  well  as  Alexander 
himself  by  the  patrons  of  the  theater,  and 
the  newspapers  would  often  refer  to  us  as 
"Alec's  two  young  heroes." 

I  cannot  remember  the  first  appearance 
of  my  brother  George,  but  I  vividly  recol- 
lect my  own.  I  was  five  years  old,  and 
was  taken  on  to  represent  the  child  of 
Martin  Hay  wood  in  Douglas  Jerrold's  drama 
of  "The  Kent  Day."  In  the  last  scene, 
where  Crumbs,  played  by  my  father,  seizes 
Martin's  goods  and  chattels,  and  is  about  to 
turn  him  out  of  doors,  I  became  fearfully 
excited  ;  and  when  Martin,  my  stage  father, 
began  berating  Crumbs,  the  real  author  of 
14 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF  A  PLAYER 

my  being,  I  could  stand  it  no  longer.  I 
ran  from  Martin,  and  clung  wildly  to  old 
Crumbs.  I  had  been  announced  as  "Mas- 
ter Stoddart,  five  years  old ;  his  first  ap- 
pearance on  any  stage,"  so  that  my  iden- 
tity and  my  relationship  to  Crumbs  were 
known  to  the  public.  The  audience  yelled 
with  delight,  and  the  conclusion  of  the  act 
was,  of  course,  completely  upset.  My 
d6but,  therefore,  proved  highly  injurious 
to  my  prospects,  for,  for  some  time  after- 
ward, when  other  children  were  required, 
Alexander  would  say  to  my  father  :  "Stod- 
dart, don't  bring  the  'Rent  Day7  boy." 

I  made  a  second  appearance  later,  in 
"Macbeth."  I  was  cast  for  one  of  the  ap- 
paritions. Macready  was  playing  the 
great  Thane.  I  had  to  say  : 

Macbeth,  Macbeth,  Macbeth,  beware  Macduff ! 
Beware  the  Thane  of  Fife !  dismiss  me:  enough ! 

I  was  nervous,  but  having  upset  things 
in  "The  Rent  Day"  on  my  first  appear- 
ance, I  thought  it  absolutely  necessary  for 
my  future  well-being  that,  this  time,  I 
should  convince  Mr.  Alexander  of  my  sta- 
15 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

bility.  I  stood  at  the  wings  watching 
Macready.  He  was  so  particular  that 
everybody  dreaded  him.  No  one  dared 
to  move  or  make  the  slightest  noise  behind 
the  scenes.  I  remember  that  young  Mr. 
Cathcart  on  one  occasion,  having  to  deliver 
a  message  to  him,  extended  his  right  hand 
in  doing  it ;  whereupon  Mr.  Macready  im- 
mediately took  him  to  task,  saying  :  "No, 
no,  sir  ;  don't  do  that.  No  action,  sir,  no 
action.  Keep  your  hands  down  by  your 
sides,  and  look  me  in  the  eye ;  but  no 
action.'7 

This  strict  discipline  had  a  tendency  to 
confuse  me,  and  I  wished  my  part  of  the 
rehearsal  over.  I  made  my  way  under 
the  stage  and  found  the  step-ladder  by 
which  I  was  to  reach  the  caldron.  The 
witches  were  stirring  something  in  it  with 
their  sticks.  I  kept  repeating  my  lines, 
fearful  that  I  should  forget  them.  At  last 
my  time  came  to  appear.  I  popped  my 
head  through  the  caldron  and  heard  my 
cue.  One  of  the  witches  says  : 

He  knows  thy  thought : 
Hear  his  speech,  but  say  thou  naught. 
16 


J.  B.  Buckstone. 


KECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

I  was  trembling  like  a  leaf,  but  I  began : 
"Muckbeth,  Muckbeth."  Mr.  Macready 
instantly  interrupted  me :  "Oh,  no,  no, 
young  man  ;  not  Muck,  not  Muck.  Go  on, 
sir ;  try  again."  I  said  once  more,  "Muck- 
beth." "Oh,  no,  no  !  Mack,  Mack,  Mack  ! 

D it,  can't  you  say  Macbeth  f  "   At  this 

moment  Mr.  Alexander  kindly  came  to  my 
rescue.  "I  think,  Mr.  Macready,"  he  said, 
"you  will  find  the  boy  all  right  at  night. 
Besides,"  he  added,  "'Macbeth'  is  a  Scotch 
piece,  and  a  little  of  the  Scotch  dialect 
may  not  be  altogether  out  of  place." 
Alexander  had  a  very  broad  accent  him- 
self. I  was  at  last  allowed  to  proceed  in 
my  own  way,  but  I  do  not  remember 
whether  I  finally  said  "Muck  "  or  "Mack." 
Nearly  all  the  important  star  actors  of 
the  time  came  down  from  London  and 
played  engagements  with  Alexander. 
Among  them  were  Helen  Faucit,  Charles 
Mathews,  Mme.  Vestris,  Tyrone  Power, 
the  great  Irish  comedian,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Charles  Kean,  Benjamin  Webster,  Mme. 
Celeste,  J.  B.  Buckstone,  Mrs.  Fitzwilliam, 
Edwin  Forrest,  and  Charlotte  Cushman. 
2  17 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEK 

Miss  Glyn,  who  was  associated  with  Mr. 
Phelps  at  Sadlers  Wells,  London,  was  a 
favorite  in  Edinburgh  and  Glasgow.  She 
was  Scotch,  and  had  a  broad  Scotch  accent, 
and  she  was  abnormally  tall.  My  brother 
George  played  with  her  in  Liverpool,  and 
on  one  occasion  had  an  important  scene  to 
act  with  her.  She  towered  above  him. 
When  she  saw  him  at  rehearsal  she  ad- 
dressed him  thus  :  "Dear,  dear  young  man, 
you  're  verra  short ;  could  ye  no  stand  on 
your  taes  f  " 

Charlotte  Cushman  began  in  "Guy 
Mannering."  Although  it  was  not  a 
novelty  in  Glasgow,  but  a  stock  piece, 
played  season  after  season,  when  her  Meg 
Merrilies  was  once  made  known  to  the 
Glasgow  theater-going  public,  not  only 
were  the  houses  packed,  but  Dunlop  Street 
was  thronged  with  people  anxious  to  wit- 
ness her  performance,  and  her  Meg  Mer- 
rilies became  the  talk  of  the  town.  I  had 
the  honor  of  playing  the  Gypsy  Boy  with 
her,  and  as  long  as  I  live  I  shall  remember 
her  first  entrance,  and  her  death  at  the 
end  of  /the  piece.  After  being  shot  she 
18 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEE 

exclaims,  while  looking  in  Henry  Bethune^s 
face,  "Shout,  men.  Shout,  and  acknow- 
ledge him  heir  of  Ellangowan  ! "  With 
the  first  shout  she  raised  herself  partly  up  ; 
with  the  second  to  her  full  height ;  and 
with  the  third  shout  she  fell  all  of  a  heap 
on  the  stage,  looking  more  like  a  bundle 
of  old  rags  than  a  human  being.  I  cer- 
tainly think  it  was  the  most  effectively 
dramatic  piece  of  business  I  have  ever  seen. 
On  another  occasion  she  played  Rosalind 
in  "As  You  Like  It,"  and  Mr.  Alexan- 
der's company  never  being  over-numerous, 
I  was  cast  for  the  part  of  Jacques  Dubois. 
The  night  before  its  production  I  was  a 
little  doubtful  as  to  whether  I  could  com- 
mit it  to  memory  ;  but  as  it  meant  a  shil- 
ling instead  of  sixpence,  I  undertook  it, 
walking  the  floor  half  the  night  trying  to 
memorize  my  lines.  The  part  consists  of 
only  one  speech,  but  that  is  a  long  and 
most  important  one  occurring  at  the  end 
of  the  play.  In  the  morning  I  could  re- 
peat it— at  rehearsal  it  had  left  me.  The 
property-man  of  the  theater  said  he  had 
played  the  part,  so,  much  to  my  mental 
19 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYEE 

relief  and  my  pecuniary  loss,  I  was  told 
that  I  would  not  be  needed.  The  property- 
man  went  on  that  night,  but  the  next 
morning  Miss  Cushman  sent  for  me  and 
said,  "That  man  got  through  with  the 
speech  last  night,  but  spoke  it  in  such  a 
villainous  manner  that  I  don't  want  a 
repetition  of  him,  if  I  can  avoid  it;  I 
know  blank  verse  needs  to  dwell  some  time 
in  the  memory.  Let  me  hear  if  you  now 
remember  the  lines."  I  repeated  the 
speech  without  a  mistake,  and  Miss  Cush- 
man in  consequence  gave  directions  that 
the  property-man  should  doff  his  garment 
and  that  I  should  don  it.  I  was  told  after- 
ward that  I  spoke  the  much- dreaded 
speech  well.  Even  the  gentleman  whom 
I  had  supplanted  assured  me  I  was  "all 
right,"  and  related  to  me  the  trouble  he 
had  to  get  hold  of  the  words.  "The  first 
time  I  did  it,"  said  he,  "I  kept  on  repeat- 
ing the  words,  <I  am  the  second  son  of  old 
Sir  Eoland/  for  I  could  n't  for  the  life  of 
me  think  of  the  rest  of  my  speech,  and  at 
last,  being  completely  dumfounded,  I  ex- 
20 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

claimed,  <Oh,  why  the  devil  did  Sir  Ro- 
land ever  have  a  second  son ! J  And  I 
think  the  audience  heard  it." 

Mr.  Alexander,  at  this  time  a  man  over 
fifty  years  of  age,  played  all  sorts  of  parts, 
but  he  was  essentially  a  low  comedian. 
His  personality  was  never  left  in  doubt, 
and  if  he  had  a  line  or  two  to  speak  be- 
fore making  his  entrance,  they  would  say 
in  front :  "Here  comes  old  Alec."  Miss 
Jean  Davenport,  afterward  Mrs.  General 
Lander,  who  played  many  star  engage- 
ments in  Glasgow,  on  one  occasion  acted 
Juliet  to  the  Romeo  of  Alexander.  This 
proved  too  much  for  the  Glasgow  people 
to  endure.  Hand-bills  were  distributed 
throughout  the  city,  which  read  :  "Murder 
at  the  Theater  Royal !  Alexander  as 
Romeo."  The  populace  came  armed  with 
clubs,  sticks,  etc.,  and  seldom,  I  suppose, 
was  a  scene  like  it  ever  witnessed  in  a 
theater.  When  Romeo  made  his  first  ap- 
pearance the  spectators  hooted,  yelled,  and 
shouted,  "Go  home,  Alec!"  My  father 
played  Friar  Laurence.  When  he  said, 
21 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

"Come  forth,  thou  desperate  man  "  (refer- 
ring to  Romeo),  there  was  a  roar.  After 
Romeo's  speech, 

Fall  upon  the  ground  as  I  do  now, 
Taking  the  measure  of  an  unmade  grave, 

Alexander  fell  in  such  a  comic  manner 
that  the  audience  was  convulsed.  They 
whistled,  /pounded  the  floor  with  their 
sticks,  and  cat-called  until  Romeo  could 
stand  it  no  longer.  He  rose  up  from  his 
prone  position,  came  down  to  the  foot- 
lights, and  spoke  as  follows  :  "Ladies  and 
gentlemen."  [A  voice  from  the  gallery  : 
"Oh,  go  home,  Alec."]  "I  '11  give  five 
pounds,"  said  Alexander,  "if  some  one 
will  point  out  that  blackguard  in  the  gal- 
lery." [Another  voice :  "It  was  me, 
Alec."]  "Hold  your  tongue,"  roared  Alex- 
ander, "and  don't  incriminate  yourself. 
Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  have  built  you  a 
beautiful  theater."  [Yells.]  "I  know  I 
am  not  so  young  as  I  was."  ["No,  no," 
and  roars  of  laughter.]  "But,  thank  God, 
I  can  play  the  part."  At  this  there  was  a 
general  row,  and  Alexander  went  back 
22 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

to  his  position,  again  stretching  himself 
upon  the  stage.  The  disturbance  con- 
tinued throughout  the  evening. 

I  played  Romeo's  page,  and  had  to  follow 
him  on  in  the  last  scene,  when  he  visits 
the  tomb  of  the  Capulets.  When  Alex- 
ander appeared  in  his  black  costume  it  was 
the  signal  for  another  outburst  of  merri- 
ment, and  when  I  made  my  entrance,  with 
a  crowbar  and  a  lighted  torch,  they  howled. 
They  were  more  respectful  while  'Juliet 
was  on  the  stage,  but  during  Romeo's  death 
scene  the  climax  of  derisive  joy  was 
reached. 

When  my  father  and  I  were  leaving  the 
theater  after  the  performance,  we  saw  a 
crowd  in  front  of  the  building,  with  Alex- 
ander in  their  center,  sword  in  hand,  en- 
deavoring, as  he  said,  to  protect  his  prop- 
erty from  injury  at  the  hands  of  a  lot  of 
"blackguard  ruffians."  We  hurried  home. 
Next  morning  it  was  discovered  that  during 
the  uproar  some  one  had  managed  to  find 
his  way  to  the  roof  of  the  theater  and  had 
given  one  side  of  the  face  of  Alexander's 
statue  a  liberal  coat  of  whitewash.  A  re- 
23 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEK 

ward  of  five  pounds  was  offered  for  the  ap 
prehension  of  the  culprit,  but  he  was  nevei 
discovered. 

As  I  grew  older  I  began  to  think  that 
some  other  occupation  would  be  more 
congenial  to  me.  After  the  Glasgow  sea- 
son a  company  was  formed  to  try  their 
luck  in  Greenock,  a  sort  of  sharing  scheme, 
of  which  my  father  became  the  manager. 
After  the  running  expenses  were  deducted, 
the  remainder  was  divided  according  to 
the  relative  positions  held  by  the  actors, 
the  principals,  of  course,  receiving  a  larger 
share  than  the  minor  members. 

In  those  days  Greenock  was  a  great 
shipping-port.  All  the  heavier  vessels  lay 
there,  as  the  Clyde  was  not  sufficiently  deep 
to  allow  them  to  go  up  to  Glasgow.  I 
used  to  watch  the  ships  come  in  and  out, 
and,  seeing  the  sailors  spend  their  money 
freely  ashore,  I  thought  that  seafaring 
would  be  an  ideal  life,  and  resolved  to 
adopt  it.  I  had  not  a  good  appearance 
for  the  character.  I  was  thin  and  very 
pale.  My  parents  thought  I  was  quite 
unsuited  for  such  a  life,  and  naturally 
24 


Charlotte  Cushman. 


BECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYEE 

they  objected;  but  I  became  infatuated 
with  the  idea.  I  had  a  sympathizing  land- 
lady, who  looked  upon  the  theater  as  a 
pit  of  iniquity,  and  in  order,  as  she  said,  to 
redeem  me,  did  her  utmost  to  try  to  ob- 
tain for  me  my  heart's  desire,  to  ship  on 
board  some  vessel.  She  wandered  with  me 
from  shipping- office  to  shipping-office,  and 
took  me  on  board  all  sorts  of  craft,  inter- 
viewing captains  and  mates,  but  all  to  no 
purpose  ;  and  despite  her  explanation  that 
I  was  the  son  of  a  "play-actor,"  and  that 
she  was  trying  to  get  me  out  of  "sic  a  dis- 
reputable calling,"  she  could  not  succeed 
in  gaining  for  me  the  opportunity  to  be- 
come a  "jolly  Jack  Tar."  Her  last  appli- 
cation settled  the  business,  and  she  vowed 
she  would  have  nothing  more  to  do  with 
it.  After  much  exertion,  climbing  over 
two  vessels  to  reach  a  third  that  lay  along- 
side, we  succeeded  in  obtaining  an  inter- 
view with  the  captain.  She  began  with 
him  as  she  had  done  with  the  others. 
"Here,"  said  she,  "is  a  poor  laddie  who  is 
the  son  of  a  play-actor,  and  he  very  prop- 
erly objects  to  folio  wing  his  father's  wicked 
25 


KECOLLECTIOJSTS   OF  A  PLAYER 

and  disreputable  trade,  and  he  wants  to  be 
a  sailor.  Do  you  think  you  could  give 
him  a  job?" 

The  captain  looked  at  my  landlady  and 
then  at  me.  "Are  you  his  mitheH" 
"No/7  she  said  ;  "no  exactly  his  mither— 
just  a  friend." 

"Woman,"  said  the  captain,  "you  ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  yourself  to  try  and  send 
a  boy  like  that  to  sea.  He  7d  be  dead  be- 
fore we  got  through  half  the  voyage.  Take 
him  home  and  make  a  tailor  of  him.  Get 
ashore,  get  ashore."  My  landlady  beat  a 
hasty  retreat,  saying  as  she  went :  "You 
must  just  be  a  play-actor  all  your  days. 
I  >m  no  going  to  fash  ma  head  wi>  ye  ony 
more."  And  she  did  n't. 

I  was  still  bent  on  going  to  sea.  It  so 
happened  that  my  father  appointed  me  to 
take  checks  at  the  gallery  door  of  the 
theater,  and  in  that  capacity  I  met  many 
sailors,  and  I  became  intimate  with  one,  to 
whom  I  related  all  my  troubles— my  great 
wish  to  become  a  sailor,  and  my  difficulty 
in  getting  shipped.  He  told  me  he  was 
an  apprentice  on  board  of  a  vessel  about 
26 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

to  start  on  a  trading  voyage  to  the  West 
Indies,  not  to  return  to  Greenock  for  three 
years.  He  said  that  if  I  liked  to  stow 
away,  he  would  do  all  he  could  for  me 
until  I  became  used  to  the  sea.  I  thanked 
him  and  j  umped  at  the  chance.  He  prom- 
ised to  let  me  know  the  night  before  the 
ship  sailed,  and  to  smuggle  me  on  board. 
The  next  night  he  came  to  the  theater  and 
told  me  they  were  to  haul  out  very  early 
the  next  morning.  I  had  my  bundle  of 
clothes  with  me,  and  after  the  play  I  went 
to  the  ship  with  my  friend.  I  had  told 
my  brother  Bob  what  I  purposed  doing, 
and  he  had  promised  to  break  the  news  to 
father  and  mother.  Upon  reaching  the 
ship  we  found  a  watchman  on  board,  who 
at  first  objected  to  my  going  into  the  hold 
and  concealing  myself;  but  after  much 
persuasion  I  was  permitted  to  descend. 

It  was  midwinter  and  bitterly  cold  ;  but 
I  crawled  among  a  lot  of  casks  and  other 
junk,  and,  almost  frozen,  I  fell  asleep.  I 
do  not  know  how  long  I  slept,  but  when  I 
awoke  the  ship  was  moving,  and  the  mo- 
tion made  me  so  sick  I  thought  I  should 
27 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

have  died.  I  had  lost  my  hat  and  also  my 
bundle.  I  heard  them  on  deck  talking  of 
letting  go  the  tug.  My  feelings  had  under- 
gone a  complete  revolution,  and  I  was  far 
more  anxious  to  get  ashore  than  ever  I  had 
been  to  come  on  board.  I  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  deck  just  as  the  tug  was 
about  to  leave  the  ship.  The  captain, 
espying  me  as  I  was  about  to  jump  on 
board  the  tug,  gave  me  a  kick,  shouting, 
"  A  stowaway  ! " .  I  saw  the  ship  with  bent 
sails  going  rapidly  down  the  Clyde,  and  I 
was  glad  to  find  our  craft  returning  to 
port. 

The  tug,  however,  instead  of  going  all 
the  way  back  to  Greenock,  put  in  at  a 
small  port  about  twelve  miles  from  there. 
I  had  to  walk  this  distance  to  Greenock,  as 
I  had  lost  my  clothes  and  hat  in  the  hold 
of  the  ship,  and  I  had  no  money.  I  had 
eaten  nothing  since  about  six  o'clock  the 
evening  before ;  and,  to  make  matters 
worse,  my  brother  Bob,  who  was  to  break 
the  news  of  my  departure  at  home,  had 
told  my  father  a  fine  story  of  having  seen 
me  on  a  beautiful  ship,  with  other  sailors, 
28 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

in  a  handsome  suit  of  sailor-clothes,  look- 
ing happy,  and  that  the  captain  had  patted 
me  on  the  back  and  said  :  "  Ah,  ye  '11  make 
a  braw  wee  sailorman."  On  the  top  of 
this  information  I  arrived  at  home,  minus 
my  hat  and  my  clothes,  and  looking  a  per- 
fect wreck.  They  were  all,  however,  glad 
to  see  me.  My  mother  began  to  cry,  and 
my  father  remarked  that  I  was  far  better 
fitted  for  a  stage  sailor  than  for  the  real 
article.  I  believed  him,  and  have  never 
since  thought  of  the  sea. 

We  returned  to  Glasgow  and  rejoined 
Mr.  Alexander,  passing  another  season  in 
the  same  old  way.  Alexander's  wife  had 
a  wretched  life  on  account  of  his  peculiari- 
ties. She  was  never  out  of  the  theater. 
She  was  the  wardrobe-keeper,  attended  to 
the  supers,  prompted  her  husband,  who 
always  needed  it,  and  tried  to  be  the 
peacemaker  in  all  disputes,  of  which 
there  were  many.  Alexander  often,  in 
the  heat  of  temper,  discharged  a  mem- 
ber of  his  company  who  could  hardly  be 
spared,  and  it  was  then  that  he  would  send 
for  his  wife  and  urge  her  to  help  him  out 
29 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

of  Ms  difficulties.  "Woman,"  he  would 
say,  "I  can't  part  with  that  man.  If  he 
goes,  I  '11  murder  you  !  "  Then,  poor  soul, 
she  would  go  to  the  one  discharged  and 
persuade  him  to  stay.  "Oh,  you  munna 
think  about  leaving,"  she  would  say. 
"Mr.  Alexander  disna  mean  half  he  says. 
Just  see  how  he  abuses  me."  Everybody 
liked  Mrs.  Alexander,  and  frequently 
would  remain  with  the  company  on  her 
account. 

I  recall  a  unique  incident  in  a  perform- 
ance of  "Rob  Roy."  My  brother  George 
and  I  were  playing  EoVs  sons,  Robert  and 
Hamish.  There  is  a  scene  in  which  Nicol 
Jarvie  and  Francis  Osbaldistone  are  taken 
prisoners  and  marched  between  a  file  of 
Highland  soldiers  to  what  is  called  the 
"Tramp  Chorus."  Mrs.  Alexander  had 
made  up  the  supers  hurriedly,  and  there 
was  one  of  the  Highlanders,  a  very  tall 
person,  whom  the  audience  singled  out 
from  the  rest  as  a  butt  for  its  laughter. 
Mr.  Alexander,  who  was  the  Nicol  Jarvie, 
seeing  him  endeavor  to  diminish  his 
height  by  marching  around  almost  in  a 
30 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

sitting  posture,  admonished  him,  in  a  voice 
that  could  be  heard  above  the  martial 
music,  to  "Stand  up,  sir!'7  The  High- 
lander did  not  rise ;  at  which  Alexander 
repeated  the  command  in  a  louder  voice  : 
"Stand  up,  sir ! "  This  time  the  High- 
lander explained:  "I  canna,  Alec,  I 
canna ;  ma  kilt  >s  ower  short." 

On  the  same  occasion  Mr.  Charles  Love- 
day,  who  was  so  long  in  America,  was  the 
Captain  Thornton  of  the  cast.  He  had  a 
cold,  and  he  coughed  frequently  while 
speaking ;  whereupon  Alexander  unsym- 
pathetically  drew  attention  to  his  illness 
by  saying  in  an  audible  aside  :  "Lord  pre- 
serve us  and  deliver  us  frae  this  asthmati- 
cal  army." 

Alexander  was  always  careful  not  to 
offend  my  father,  who  had  been  with  him 
so  long,  had  such  a  "good  study,"  and  was 
so  well  up  in  all  the  current  plays  that  he 
was  a  most  valuable  member  of  the  com- 
pany. There  were  no  type -written  parts 
in  those  days.  An  actor  had  to  write  out 
his  own  part,  and  was  allowed  only  a  cer- 
tain time  in  which  to  do  it,  having  then 
31 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYEE 

to  pass  the  manuscript  or  play -book  on  to 
some  other  member.  Many  and  many  a 
night,  after  the  performance,  when  my 
brothers  and  I  were  all  in  bed,  father  and 
mother  would  be  at  work  on  new  parts 
for  hours,  she  reading  and  he  writing. 
Often  poor  mother,  tired  out,  would  nod 
over  her  task  and  lose  her  place,  saying, 
"Oh,  dear  !  I  have  given  you  the  wrong 
speech."  And  father  would  irritably  reply, 
"  Confound  it !  Give  me  the  book  and  1 711 , 
read  it  myself."  But  in  the  same  moment 
he  would  rise,  kiss  her,  and  insist  upon 
her  going  to  bed,  finishing  the  task  by 
himself.  Poor  mother !  God  bless  her 
memory !  One  of  the  most  patient  and 
tender-hearted  creatures  that  ever  lived— 
trying  to  clothe  and  provide  for  her  chil- 
dren on  so  slender  an  income,  and  fighting 
a  malady,  cancer,  that  eventually  ended 
her  life,  and  yet  so  good,  so  cheerful,  al- 
ways making  light  of  her  pain. 

My  father,   night   after   night,   would 

walk  up  and  down  the  room,  studying  long 

parts  for  the  next  night's  performance, 

and  sometimes  daylight  would  appear  be- 

32 


Charles  James  Mathews,  Jr., 
as  George  Rattleton. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYER 

fore  lie  could  retire.  Again,  he  would  be 
in  the  theater  until  three  or  four  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon  rehearsing,  and  then 
home  to  repeat  the  same  sort  of  labor. 
The  work  was  fearful,  and  I  have  since 
wondered  how  he  ever  got  through  it. 

Charles  Mathews  and  Mme.  Vestris 
played  an  engagement  with  Alexander 
one  season,  and  years  after  Mr.  Mathews 
recalled  to  me,  when  we  were  together  at 
Wallack's,  an  incident  of  it.  "I  shall 
never  forget,"  said  he,  "your  father,  and 
the  terrific  work  he  got  through  with 
Alexander  in  Glasgow.  Vestris  and  I 
were  playing  an  engagement  there,  and 
your  father  was  in  all  the  plays.  The 
entertainment  on  one  occasion  consisted 
of  'The  Windmill,'  'The  Loan  of  a  Lover/ 
and  'The  Captain  of  the  Watch.'  Your 
father  had  struggled  through  the  first  two 
at  rehearsal.  When  we  came  to  the  last 
play,  'The  Captain  of  the  Watch,'  he 
seemed  a  little  befogged.  I  said  to  him  : 
'Stoddart,  do  you  know  this  piece,  "The 
Captain  of  the  Watch  "  ? '  'No,  sir/  said 
he,  'I  do  not.'  'Well/  I  explained,  'this 
3  33 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

old  baron  that  you  play  is  a— well,  lie  is  a 
sort  of  mysterious  old  fellow,  you  know.' 
I  shall  never  forget  your  father's  expres- 
sion. He  looked  at  all  the  parts  in  his 
pocket,  and  then  at  me,  and  he  said  in  his 
droll  way:  <Mr.  Mathews,  you  will  find 
the  baron  d— d  mysterious  at  night.' " 

The  American  tragedian  Edwin  Forrest 
followed  Mathews  at  the  Theater  Royal, 
and  played  a  very  indifferent  engagement. 
He  and  Alexander  were  at  war  all  the  time. 
As  the  business  was  bad,  old  Alec  cut 
down  the  supers  to  about  one  half  the 
number  Forrest  required.  Upon  Forrest 
objecting,  Alexander  justified  himself  by 
calling  attention  to  the  fact  that  Macready 
and  other  great  stars  had  played  at  his 
theater  with  no  greater  auxiliary  assistance 
than  was  offered  to  Forrest.  "You  are  an 
ass,"  said  Forrest.  "A  what?"  said  Alec. 
"An  ass,  an  ass  ! "  repeated  Forrest.  "Sir," 
replied  Alec,  "I  have  built  this  beautiful 
temple  of  the  drama ;  I  am  its  sole  pro- 
prietor. You,  Mr.  Forrest,  are  simply  a 
guest ;  and,  judging  from  your  behavior,  a 
very  disagreeable  one  you  are."  "Your 
34 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

guest ! "  ejaculated  Mr.  Forrest.  "A  rat 
would  n't  be  your  guest."  I  suppose  both 
were  glad  when  the  engagement  ended. 

This  was  about  the  time  when  there  was 
so  much  discussion  as  to  the  respective 
abilities  of  Forrest  and  Macready.  For- 
rest attributed  his  comparative  failure  in 
England  and  Scotland  to  the  alleged  hos- 
tility of  Macready,  and  likewise  to  his  na- 
tionality. The  latter  was  certainly  an 
erroneous  plea,  for  when  Miss  Charlotte 
Cushman  appeared  there  her  success  was 
as  overwhelming  as  his  was  indifferent, 
and  this,  too,  although  she  was  an  Ameri- 
can of  the  most  pronounced  type. 

At  the  end  of  Alexander's  season  my 
father  again  formed  a  company  and  visited 
some  of  the  small  towns  of  Scotland.  The 
inhabitants  of  some  of  those  places  were 
not  exactly  thirsting  for  dramatic  enter- 
tainment, and  in  some  of  the  small  towns 
they  knew  very  little  of  the  legitimate 
drama.  Every  school-boy,  however,  could 
speak  "My  name  is  Norval,"  etc.,  so  we 
thought  Home's  tragedy  of  "Douglas,"  in 
such  places,  might  prove  attractive.  It 
35 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

was  in  one  of  those  towns  that  a  most  ludi- 
crous incident  occurred.  We  had  at  the 
time  no  posters  or  other  means  of  adver- 
tising, save  through  the  town  crier,  who 
was  sent  around  the  village  in  the  after- 
noon announcing  the  performance  of  the 
evening.  Ting-a-ling,  ting-a-ling!  Einging 
his  bell,  he  cried  :  "  Grand  performance  ! 
Town  hall  to-night !  Great  play  of l  Doug- 
las ' !  Leave  early,  or  ye  711  no  get  a 
seat ! "  In  spite  of  this  effective  and 
earnest  exhortation,  the  inhabitants  did 
not  avail  themselves  of  the  chance  to 
enjoy  the  classic  drama,  and  but  five 
persons  in  all  presented  themselves  for 
admission  to  the  theater  that  evening. 
This  noble  band  sat  huddled  together  in 
the  front  row.  Father  said  that  we  should 
give  the  performance  at  all  events.  "Per- 
haps," he  remarked  hopefully,  "as  we 
progress,  others  may  drop  in."  But  they 
did  n't,  which,  I  think,  rather  incensed 
my  father ;  for  in  one  part  of  the  play 
where  he,  as  the  hero,  has  an  impassioned 
speech,  he  delivered  it  as  though  to  a 
house  crowded  with  enthusiastic  admirers  : 
36 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

"  Demons  of  death !  Come,  settle  on  my 
sword."  Upon  hearing  this  invocation, 
one  of  the  auditors,  becoming  alarmed, 
made  for  the  door.  Nothing  daunted, 
father  proceeded  with  great  energy  :  "And 
to  a  double  slaughter  guide  it  home ! " 
At  this  the  second  auditor  followed  the 
first.  Father,  now  thoroughly  aroused, 
drew  his  sword,  shouting :  "The  husband 
and  the  lover  both  must  die ! "  The  re- 
maining three  were  now  really  trembling 
with  fright,  and  precipitately  followed 
their  companions ;  but  as  they  reached 
the  door  of  the  hall,  father,  seeing  all  was 
over,  quietly  sheathed  his  sword  and 
wished  them  a  polite  "Good  evening,  gen- 
tlemen," and  so  the  performance  ended. 

The  Rev.  John  Home,  the  author  of 
this  same  tragedy,  was  deposed  from  the 
ministry  for  writing  it,  so  great,  in  those 
days,  was  the  prejudice  in  Scotland  against 
the  stage. 

My  father  used  to  relate  an  anecdote  of 

a  provincial  tragedian  who,  while  touring 

the  country,  for  economy's  sake  pressed 

into  service  a  certain  stage-struck  individ- 

37 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

ual  for  the' part  of  Catesby  in  "  Richard 
III."  At  rehearsal,  the  star,  who  was 
very  eccentric  and  irascible,  frightened 
this  young  man  almost  out  of  his  wits  by 
his  method  of  coaching  him.  "Come  on, 
sir,  as  though  you  lacked  breath,  and  don't 
hesitate.  Shout  out  at  the  top  of  your 
voice  your  lines,  'My  lord,  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham  is  taken  ! '  Then,  sir,  I  make 
a  rush  at  you  and  exclaim,  ( Off  with  his 
head  !  Aha  !  So  much  for  Buckingham  ! ' 
This  is  my  strongest  point  in  the  whole 
tragedy."  Catesby  pondered  all  day  upon 
his  instructions,  and  worked  himself  into 
such  a  state  of  nervous  excitement  ere  the 
performance  began  in  which  he  was  to 
make  his  famous  speech  that  he  antici- 
pated his  cue  by  several  minutes,  and 
rushed  on  breathlessly,  as  he  was  bidden, 
and  shouted  lustily:  "My  lord,  the 
Duke—"  "Get  off!"  cried  Richard. 
"You  're  too  soon ! "  The  unfortunate 
young  man  made  a  precipitate  exit,  only 
to  appear  again  before  his  cue  was  given. 
"My  lord,  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  is 
taken  ! "  Richard  was  now  furious  at  the 
38 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

spoiling  of  his  scene,  and  almost  threw  the 
aspirant  for  histrionic  honors  from  the 
stage,  muttering  at  the  wings  :  "Will  some 
one  send  this  idiot  on  at  the  proper  time  f  " 
When  the  cue  was  finally  given,  the  unfor- 
tunate young  man  was  pushed  on  by  a  stage- 
hand, with  an  audible  "That  's  you— 
that  's  you.'7  The  poor  fellow  by  this 
time  had  completely  lost  his  head,  and 
roared  forth :  "My  lord,  we  have  him  now 
sure!"  Needless  to  say,  this  was  the 
young  gentleman's  first  and  last  appear- 
ance upon  the  boards. 

Father  also  told  another  good  story  in 
connection  with  this  same  play.  It  seems 
that  upon  one  occasion  the  great  George 
Frederick  Cooke  was  appearing  as  Richard, 
and  the  young  man  cast  for  Ratcliffw&s 
very  nervous.  The  tent  scene,  in  the  fifth 
act,  gave  Cooke,  as  Richard,  his  great 
speech.  This  is  at  the  point  where  he  is 
supposed  to  see  the  ghosts  of  his  victims, 
and  he  always  became  tremendously 
wrought  up  over  it.  As  Ratcliff  enters  at 
the  end  of  the  speech,  Richard  starts  and 
shouts  :  "Who  's  there  *  "  Ratcliff  should 
39 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

answer,  "Ratcliff,  my  lord;  't  is  I— the 
early  village  cock  hath  twice  done  saluta- 
tion to  the  morn.  Your  friends  are  up 
and  buckle  on  their  armor."  Cooke's  de- 
livery of  the  words  "Who  's  there?"  was 
of  such  tremendous  force  that  the  poor 
young  man  was  completely  unnerved,  and 
could  only  stammer  out :  "'T  is  I,  my  lord, 
the  early  village  cock—"  and  could  say  no 
more.  Again  making  an  effort :  "'T  is  I, 
my  lord,  the  early  village  cock—"  and  then 
stood  helpless  and  aghast.  Regarding  for 
a  moment  the  helpless  and  hapless  Eatdiffj 
Cooke  blurted  forth  :  "Then  why  the  devil 
don't  you  crow  f  " 

As  we  were  not  far  from  my  father's 
place  of  birth,  near  Moffat,  in  the  parish 
of  Johnstone,  he  surprised  us  one  day  by 
saying  that  he  meant  to  take  us  all  to  Hart- 
field  Farm  to  see  his  relations.  So  away  we 
started,  walking  the  journey,  my  father, 
mother,  and  five  boys.  Father  told  us  that 
the  distance  was  nothing  to  speak  of,  but  as 
we  were  tramping  all  day,  it  occurred  to  us 
that  we  had  had  quite  enough  of  it.  We 
reached  our  destination  late  in  the  after- 
40 


James  H.  Stoddart,  Sr. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

noon.  On  the  way  my  father  pointed  out 
the  beauties  of  the  country  j  and  it  was 
beautiful,  with  its  hills  and  dales,  woods 
and  rivers.  The  estate  itself  was  mag- 
nificent. We  saw  the  school-house,  a  long 
distance  from  Hartfield  Farm,  where,  my 
father  told  us,  he  used  to  trudge  every 
day.  To  reach  it  he  had  to  cross  a  small 
but  rather  deep  river,  and  he  told  us  he 
used  to  keep  a  pair  of  stilts  concealed 
among  the  brushwood  to  enable  him  to 
ford  this  stream.  He  gave  us  a  descrip- 
tion of  his  young  days,  of  the  schoolmas- 
ter, and  of  his  companions  ;  how  he  used 
to  hunt  and  fish;  #nd  how  the  young 
chaps,  courting  the  girls  who  lived  on  the 
farms  many  miles  away,  would  start,  after 
a  hard  day  in  the  fields,  to  spend  a  "wee 
bit  time"  with  the  lassies  they  liked,  "no 
caring  at  a?  if  they  but  reached  home  in 
time  for  work  next  morning."  We  saw,  as 
we  walked  along,  the  deer  bounding  across 
the  road,  almost  in  front  of  us,  and  the 
trout  jumping  in  the  brook  where  father 
used  to  fish,  and  we  thought  how  much 
happier  he  would  have  been  had  he  re- 
41 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

mained  at  HartfieldFarm  rather  than  with 
John  Henry  Alexander  at  the  Theater 
Royal  in  Glasgow,  although  we  might  not 
have  arrived  to  express  our  sentiments. 

As  I  have  intimated,  all  the  Stoddarts 
in  that  part  of  Scotland  were  in  some  way 
related  to  one  another,  and  although  many 
of  his  relatives  were  dead,  there  were  still 
a  number  in  being.  Father  remarked 
that  the  different  places  looked  familiar, 
so  he  found  his  way  without  difficulty, 
passing  a  number  of  cottages  and  small 
farms,  the  inhabitants  of  which  came  to 
the  doors  and  had  a  good  look  at  us.  Of 
course  it  was  an  unusual  sight :  father  in 
front,  mother  a  little  way  behind,  and  five 
boys,  in  single  file,  bringing  up  the  rear. 

"When  we  reached  our  destination,  my 
father  had  some  difficulty  in  making  his 
relatives  understand  who  he  was,  and  this 
rather  disconcerted  us ;  but  after  consid- 
erable explanation  they  remembered  him, 
although  they  kept  looking  at  my  mother 
and  her  boys  in  bewilderment.  It  soon 
became  known  that  "Jeemes"  Stoddart 
had  come  back,  and  that  he  had  a  wife 
42 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEK 

and  five  "wee  laddies,  a7  just  like  steps  and 
stairs,  ye  ken."  The  house  was  soon  full 
of  father's  old  companions.  We  had  plenty 
to  eat  and  drink.  They  and  my  father 
had  long  talks  of  auld  lang  syne,  of  those 
who  were  still  alive  and  of  those  who 
had  gone.  These  good  people  knew  no- 
thing of  theatrical  matters.  In  fact,  one 
old  lady  asked  if  father  was  a  tumbler,  and 
if  he  could  "stan>  on  his  heed.  An',"  says 
she,  "ye  surely  dinna  mean  to  bring  up 
these  wee  chaps  to  sic  an  occupation."  I 
have  heard  my  father,  in  Glasgow,  fre- 
quently, in  the  course  of  a  heated  argu- 
ment, uphold  the  dignity  of  the  theatrical 
profession ;  but  in  the  presence  of  this  old 
woman  he  was  mute. 

As  it  grew  late  and  near  bedtime,  there 
was  discussion  as  to  how  we  all  were  to 
be  accommodated.  It  ended  in  my  father 
and  mother  remaining  where  they  were, 
while  my  brothers  and  I  were  distributed 
in  the  neighborhood.  "We  remained  some 
time,  staying  first  with  one  family,  then 
with  another.  As  there  were  many  of  us, 
however,  father  felt  that  it  would  be  un- 
43 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

generous  to  remain  too  long,  since  we  cer- 
tainly were  putting  our  friends  to  incon- 
venience j  but  when  the  time  of  our 
departure  came,  there  seemed  to  be  true 
and  honest  regret,  and  although  our  ac- 
quaintance had  been  brief,  when  my  father 
and  mother,  with  their  brood,  marched 
down  the  road,  there  were  tears  and  "wee 
bit  sobs"  at  their  departure.  The  good 
woman  who  had  first  received  us  was  the 
last  to  bid  us  good-by,  with  a  "God  bless 
you,  Jeemes,  you,  your  wife,  and  your 
bairns."  And  so  we  left  Hartfield  and 
father's  poor,  simple,  but  kind,  honest 
relatives.  It  was  our  first  and  only  visit. 
How  many  of  them  are  still  alive  I  know 
not.  Alas  !  I  am  the  only  survivor  of  the 
family  that  visited  them !  From  there 
we  walked  to  Dumfries,  quite  a  journey, 
though  not  a  great  distance  from  Moffat ; 
and,  as  the  time  for  the  opening  of  the 
Theater  Royal  was  drawing  near,  we  made 
our  way  by  easy  stages  to  Glasgow. 

My  brother  George,  who  was  nearly  two 
years  my  senior,  determined  to  strike  out 
on  his  own  account,  and  succeeded  in 
44 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

obtaining  a  situation  at  the  Coventry 
Theater,  managed  by  Mr.  Bennett,  to  play 
the  first  walking  gentleman.  In  those 
days  the  actor  had  to  begin  at  the  bottom 
of  the  ladder,  passing  successively  from 
general  utility  business,  which  consisted 
of  anything  and  everything  of  a  minor 
description,  to  respectable  utility,  which 
was  a  step  higher.  An  actor  then  usually 
discovered  what  he  could  do  best,  and 
chose  his  line  of  business.  The  lines  of 
business  consisted  of  general  utility,  re- 
spectable utility,  first  walking  gentleman, 
second  walking  gentleman,  first  old  man, 
second  old  man,  first  and  second  heavy 
business,  first  and  second  low  comedy,  ju- 
venile business,  light  comedy  and  eccen- 
tric business,  and  leading  business.  For 
actresses  the  grades  were  leading  lady, 
juvenile  lady,  chambermaid,  and  first  and 
second  old  woman.  Of  course  it  was  hard 
work  until  you  became  familiar  with  the 
parts  belonging  to  your  line ;  then  it  be- 
came comparatively  easy. 

My  brother  George  was  the  first  to  leave 
home.     He  looked  quite  a  man,  although 
45 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

he  was  only  seventeen  years  of  age.  He 
remained  with  Mr.  Bennett,  who  had  two 
theaters,  one  at  Worcester  and  the  other 
at  Coventry,  for  two  years.  My  brother 
Robert  and  I  remained  with  Alexander 
for  one  season  longer ;  but  the  fact  that 
George  had  struck  out  for  himself  sug- 
gested to  us  that  we  had  arrived  at  an  age 
when  we  ought  to  be  able  to  fend  for  our- 
selves, so  we  wrote  to  various  managers 
for  a  joint  engagement,  resolving  not  to 
separate  if  we  could  avoid  it.  Our  appli- 
cations were  for  respectable  utility,  and 
the  favorable  reply  received  was  from  Mr. 
Pollock  of  the  Theater  Royal,  Aberdeen, 
who  offered,  if  we  were  content  to  place 
ourselves  under  his  guidance,  to  receive 
us  at  a  joint  salary  of  thirty  shillings  per 
week.  Bob  and  I  were  frantic  with  joy  ; 
it  seemed  a  fortune  after  Alexander's  shil- 
ling and  sixpenny  arrangement.  I  think 
if  we  read  Pollock's  letter  once,  we  must 
have  read  it  fifty  times.  Of  course  we 
lost  no  time  in  sending  a  letter  of  accep- 
tance. My  father  took  a  rosy  view,  say- 
ing it  was  a  fine  opportunity  for  us  ;  that 
46 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

we  had  ability,  and  would  be  sure  to  get 
on.  "As  for  Jim/'  he  said,  "he  '11  make 
a  fine  melodramatic  actor.  I  never  saw 
any  one  who  could  make  a  better  back- 
fall." He  advised  us  also  to  keep  what 
we  earned  until  the  end  of  the  Glasgow 
season,  and  with  it  to  get  ourselves  a  few 
properties,  as  we  should  require  them. 

"You  will  each  want  a  pair  of  russet 
boots,"  he  said,  "a  pair  of  sandals,  two 
pairs  of  tights,  a  pair  of  fleshings,  two 
ostrich  feathers,  and  a  sword."  Father 
seemed  as  much  pleased  as  Bob  and  I 
were ;  but  mother,  who  had  been  sitting 
in  a  corner  during  the  conversation,  was 
crying.  Bob  said :  "Why,  mother,  you 
are  crying."  Father,  in  his  characteristic 
way,  said :  "Confound  it !  what  are  you 
crying  for  !  "  "Oh,  I  can't  help  it,  dear," 
returned  mother,  "when  I  think  of  their 
leaving  us." 

So  when  our  season  in  Glasgow  had 
come  to  an  end,  we  were  not  only  enabled 
to  get  the  few  things  necessary  for  the 
stage,  but  could  also  buy  a  new  suit  of 
clothes  each.  I  remember  them  well  j 
47 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEK 

they  were  black  velveteen.  Although  I 
was  fourteen  months  older  than  my 
brother  Bob,  our  playmates  in  Dunlop 
Street  said  we  looked  like  twins.  When 
we  donned  our  velveteens,  I  recall  how 
they  made  fun  of  us,  asking  if  we  were  in 
mourning  for  the  cat. 

We  had  a  vacation  of  a  few  months  be- 
tween our  closing  in  Glasgow  and  the  date 
of  our  opening  in  Aberdeen.  Mother, 
who  was  our  treasurer,  was  very  frugal 
during  the  summer,  so  that  she  could  give 
us  sufficient  to  enable  us  to  pay  the  ex- 
penses of  our  journey  and  see  us  over  until 
we  received  our  first  week's  salary.  Dear 
soul !  she  was  for  days  mending  and  get- 
ting all  our  limited  belongings  together. 
We  sent  the  trunk  containing  our  joint 
effects  ahead  of  us,  as  we  intended  walk- 
ing some  part  of  the  way  and  riding  for 
the  rest.  We  walked  our  first  day's  jour- 
ney, mother  and  father  seeing  us  a  wee 
bit  on  the  road.  I  remember  we  went 
into  a  tavern  by  the  roadside  and  had 
some  bread,  cheese,  and  ale.  Then  the 
time  for  separation  came.  Mother  kissed 
48 


ROYAL  AMPHITHEATRE, 

ele  l>f**e«-  *.  Manager,  Mr.  W.  B.  COP  BEAK  P. tS,  fit.  <  Imrlollf-M.      7 


COIVIPTON 


On  WEDND8DAY.  SEPTEMBER  38th,  1853, 

A  NEW  COalEDT  BY  STIBUNO  COYNE,  sjq..  CALLED 


NTY   WIFE'S 

DAUG 


Ml      <  >,:,..„,!, 

UIIIvflon.T 


ni  tim;»  111. 

~ 


fKiorof 
Ad..  Br«k  ' .......... .  (.  *•*£«•»••  » 

•k (oilTSH™ 

raVblriarV !.'.'!. 


Mr.  CA 
Mr.  B    BAKKR. 


Mr.  HUNTER. 

Mr.  RICHARD  STODDART 

Colooel  IUKB.I Mr.  BARNES. 

S«ntiftel Mr.  CAMPBELL. 

Rest  Officer Mr  DOUGLAS.  |  Seo»d  OBcer Mr.  JAMH. 

Vines     :....( D.uthur  u  Vubert) M.u  MA8KELL. 

Eud.g. ( D.uijbl.r  of  Adim  Brock) ^ Mi»  FANNT  IAUR, 

^"^  ™^oTeTIllo«e.l  by  .  New  .nd  (lr,,,,,,l  F.rcr.  .0  On.  Act.  by  J.  P.  WOOLER.  rjq..  eatilled 

FOUNDED  OUT  FACTS! 

R^OD^T""0*- 


Sceptic 


U~leo.nl  Fr..k 


(his  Uriglnal  Character) .... 

,iy.V.(.'w.uir).V.V'.V.'.V.'.V.V.'.'".'.'.V.'V.'.".VMrr   JOHNS. 


A  TALE  OF  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION. 


Mr.  CATBCART. 

Mr   RICHARD  STODDART. 

Mr   B.  BAKER. 
Mr    HUNTER 
''''  ' 


Mi.JOHVI. 


Tin-  Fertre«»—  Tiie  Prisoner-  Vnrxperted  neellBg-Tbe8chool-rellofrD-Tta«M««e. 

"AT  MIDNIGHT  AN  ATTEMPT  WILL  BE  MADE  TO  SAVE  YOU!" 

Artiral    of  tin    Guard-  "Tis    He  '  my  Father  !"—  The   Watch   is    fixed—"  Exchange  with  He"—  Agreed—  The  Story—  TV 
Recognition—  Plan  ol  Escape 


ROBESPIERRE  IS  DEAD!  OPEN  YOUR  PRISON  GATES!—  SAVED—  SAVED! 

Tickets  to  be  had  ol  Miss  FANNY  BAKER,  80,  Russell-street.  ~~~~"^~"~ 


••COMB  VmiCKt  Bnw  Boi..,  a..  : 


B.x.a,  a*.«4.;  »tt,  Is.  ML; 
CKt  Bnw  Boi..,  a..  :   Sid.  B.»..    1&  «M.|  Vlt,  lav 

II.  MJi.Sr  KICF.  i.  opro  from   If    till  3  .'.lock  dul..    (or  sec>riDt  SEATS  ud   ulrog    P,,.U«    B™«,  .h,ck   ...    U.    bU   ud.  t 


SHUTTLEWORTH.  -Cbildren  >>  . 
Do.ni  ores  at  HaJf-paat  0,  th. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYER 

us ;  father  grasped  our  hands,  crying : 
"God  bless  you,  boys !"  They  turned 
toward  Glasgow,  and  Bob  and  I  faced  the 
north  and  the  world.  We  were  all  snivel- 
ing. The  first  part  of  our  journey  we 
walked,  and  having  abundance  of  time, 
we  did  it  by  easy  stages. 

"We  were  determined  to  ride  into  Aber- 
deen, which  we  did,  arriving  on  a  Sunday. 
Having  ascertained  that  the  Theater  Royal 
was  situated  in  Marshall  Street,  we  set  out 
to  look  for  suitable  lodgings  in  the  vicin- 
ity, and  succeeded  in  finding  a  nice  room. 
At  the  theater  we  found  our  trunk,  and 
promptly  caused  it  to  be  sent  to  our  lodg- 
ing. The  theater  was  to  open  on  the  fol- 
lowing Wednesday.  When  we  arrived 
again  at  our  room,  the  landlady  seemed 
anxious  to  know  our  occupation,  and 
when  we  told  her  that  we  were  actors  she 
was  somewhat  taken  aback,  and  we  heard 
her  repeat  the  information  to  others  in 
the  next  room,  and  it  appeared  to  stagger 
the  entire  family.  Nothing  was  said  until 
Bob,  while  unpacking  his  bag,  began  to 
whistle  a  snatch  of  a  song.  It  was  then 
4  49 


KECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYEK 

that  the  landlady  really  bounded  into  our 
room,  exclaiming  in  great  perturbation : 
"For  mercy's  sake,  what  are  you  doin', 
whistlin'  on  the  Lord's  day?  Git  oot  o' 
ma  hoose  !  Put  your  things  back  into  your 
bag,  and  git  oot."  We  told  her,  in  no 
mistakable  terms,  what  we  thought  of 
her,  and  we  left.  And  it  was  fortunate 
that  we  did  so,  for  we  succeeded  in  being 
received  in  the  house  of  one  of  the  kind- 
est and  most  motherly  of  persons,  with 
whom  we  remained  for  a  number  of  years. 
On  the  following  morning  we  went  to 
the  theater,  and  found  that  the  opening 
play  was  "Hamlet,"  in  which  we  were 
assigned  two  small  parts.  Later,  however, 
we  were  informed  by  Mr.  Pollock  that  the 
actor  who  was  to  have  played  Horatio 
could  not  come,  and  that  one  of  us  would 
have  to  go  on  for  the  part.  Of  course  Bob 
did  not  want  to  attempt  it,  nor  did  I ;  but, 
by  virtue  of  my  seniority  of  fourteen 
months,  it  finally  devolved  on  me.  I 
remember  how  I  walked  up  and  down 
our  room,  hour  after  hour,  trying  to  get 
the  words  of  Horatio  into  my  head.  Now 
50 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

I  could  repeat  it ;  then  all  the  words  would 
leave  me.  Mr.  Richard  Young,  a  good 
actor,  had  been  brought  from  London  as 
our  leading  man,  and  he  chose  Hamlet  for 
his  opening  part.  At  rehearsal  he  in- 
structed the  actors  playing  Horatio  and 
Marcellus  to  do  just  as  he  did  in  making  the 
exit  when  Hamlet  follows  the  ghost  off. 
Hamlet's  business  was  to  drop  his  hat  and 
cloak,  and,  crouching,  point  with  his  left 
hand  as  he  made  his  exit,  saying:  "Go 
on  !  1 711  follow  thee."  I  suppose  it  must 
have  been  effective,  for  he  received  a 
round  of  applause ;  but  when  we,  acting 
according  to  our  instructions,  picked  up 
his  hat  and  cloak,  and,  crouching,  pointed 
with  our  left  hands,  in  clumsy  imitation 
of  the  Dane,  we  certainly  did  not  evoke 
the  public  favor.  A  low  comedian  would 
have  been  well  pleased  at  the  man- 
ner in  which  our  efforts  were  received. 
Mr.  Pollock,  who  was  at  the  wing  when 
we  came  off,  said  to  us  :  "What  the  devil 
are  you  doing  ?  "  We  could  only  stammer 
that  Mr.  Young  had  told  us  to  make  our 
exit  in  that  way.  I  really  knew  more  of 
51 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

the  words  than  I  thought  I  should,  but  I 
was  disconcerted  at  the  behavior  of  the 
audience  whenever  Marcellus  or  Horatio 
appeared,  and  I  was  very  glad  when  it 
was  all  over.  Bob  comforted  me  with  the 
assurance  that  I  had  done  well  under  the 
circumstances,  but  Mr.  Pollock  had  formed 
a  different  opinion,  for  next  day  he  sent 
me  the  following  note  : 

DEAR  Snt :  Your  services  will  not  be  required 
after  the  expiration  of  four  weeks.  If  your 
brother  wishes,  we  shall  be  pleased  to  retain 
him.  Yours  truly, 

WILLIAM  POLLOCK. 

I  do  not  think  I  ever  felt  more  unhappy 
in  my  life.  Bob  and  I  had  made  close  cal- 
culations of  the  amount  we  should  be  able 
to  save  out  of  our  thirty  shillings,  and 
had  arranged  what  we  would  purchase. 
I  remember  how  dear  Bob  endeavored  to 
console  me.  "  Never  mind,  Jim,'7  he  said  ; 
"we  can  live  on  the  fifteen  shillings  I  re- 
ceive, and  you  can  be  understudying  parts, 
so  it  will  be  all  right  yet."  I  inclosed  Mr. 
Pollock's  note  to  my  father,  and  received, 
by  return  mail,  this  answer  : 
52 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

DEAR  JIM:  Sorry  to  hear  of  your  trouble. 
At  the  end  of  the  four  weeks  make  yourself 
quite  sure  at  the  treasury,  pull  Pollock's  nose, 
and  come  home. 

Your  affectionate  FATHER. 

"Hamlet"  was  repeated  before  my  four 
weeks'  notice  had  expired.  I  was  now 
glib  in  the  words,  and  Mr.  Young  had 
cut  out  the  objectionable  business  of  our 
exit.  I  was  told  by  members  of  the  com- 
pany that  if  I  had  been  as  good  at  the  first 
representation  as  at  the  second,  I  should 
have  been  all  right.  During  what  I  sup- 
posed to  be  my  final  week  they  played  a 
Scotch  drama  called  "Gilderoy,"  in  which 
I  was  cast  for  the  part  of  Walter  Logan. 
Now  this  was  one  of  Alexander's  old 
pieces,  and  Walter  Logan  one  of  my  father's 
characters.  He  was  supposed  to  be  an  old 
Scotchman  taken  prisoner  by  the  English, 
and  under  sentence  of  death,  and  he  had 
some  telling  patriotic  pieces  to  deliver, 
one  ending,  I  remember,  with  the  words, 
"  Scotland  may  be  the  friend  of  England, 
but  never  will  be  her  slave."  I  knew  all 
the  words  of  the  part,  and  remembered 
53 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

where  father  used  to  get  his  applause. 
Bob  said,  "  Jim,  this  is  your  chance  ;  show 
them  what  they  are  losing."  I  felt  it  was 
my  opportunity,  and  I  got  on  so  well  that 
Mr.  Pollock  came  to  me  after  the  per- 
formance, congratulated  me,  and  said  he 
thought  that,  on  reflection,  it  would  be  a 
pity  to  separate  me  from  my  brother,  so 
he  would  be  glad  to  have  me  remain.  I 
did  so,  for  a  number  of  years.  I  was  not 
much  over  seventeen,  and  had  to  put  on 
a  gray  wig  for  the  part  of  Walter  Logan. 
I  have  been  wearing  them  ever  since. 

We  had  an  eight  months'  season  in 
Aberdeen,  and  played  nearly  all  the  re- 
mainder of  the  year  in  the  smaller  towns  in 
the  north  of  Scotland,— Arbroath,  Forfar, 
Banff,  Fochabers,  and  Elgin,— going  as  far 
north  as  Inverness.  We  grew  to  know 
many  kind  people  in  these  places,  visit- 
ing them  as  we  did  every  year.  In  fact, 
no  two  fellows  could  have  been  more 
happy  than  we  were  on  our  thirty  shillings 
a  week,  which  was  more  than  ample  for 
all  our  wants,  and  enabled  us  even  to  send 
a  little  home  to  our  brothers  Dick  and  Ben. 
54 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

In  those  days  a  man  could  live  in  a  small 
town  in  the  north  almost  for  nothing.  In 
Banff  we  had  a  good  room,  and  the  "glide 
wife/'  the  owner  of  the  cottage  in  which 
we  lived,  bought  our  provisions  for  the 
week ;  and  when  we  asked  her  what  we 
should  pay  she  looked  at  us  in  the  kindest 
way,  and  said  :  "  Weel,  laddies,  it  has  been 
a  great  pleasure  to  me  and  the  bairns  to 
have  ye  in  the  hoose  all  the  week,  so  I 
dinna  think  I  could  charge  you  onything." 
Despite  our  protestations,  she  would  re- 
ceive nothing  from  us,  and  the  only  way 
we  could  recompense  her  at  all  was  by 
slipping  a  few  shillings  into  the  hands  of 
the  wee  tots  her  children,  who  clung  to 
the  dress  of  their  mither,  saying  they 
didna  want  to  see  us  go.  This  is  only  one 
instance  of  the  kindness  we  experienced 
in  the  north  of  Scotland. 

We  had  no  study,  playing  the  same 
pieces  that  we  had  played  in  Aberdeen. 
Bob  and  I  fished,  I  believe,  nearly  every 
stream  worth  fishing  in  the  north.  We 
would  "flog  "  the  streams  most  of  the  day, 
often  taking  a  few  trout  into  an  adjacent 
55 


KECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEE 

farm-house,  and  getting  a  bowl  of  sweet 
milk  and  a  bit  of  oatmeal-cake  for  our 
pains.  The  "auld  wife  "  of  the  house  was 
ever  eager  to  hear  "a'  the  news  frae  the 
toon,"  and  have  a  "wee  crack  aboot  her 
Majesty  the  Queen,"  whom  every  Scotch 
country  woman  loved.  And  so  the  weeks 
flew  quickly  by  until  the  time  for  our  re- 
opening in  Aberdeen.  Before  the  end  of 
our  career  there  Mr.  Pollock  said  he  re- 
garded us  as  two  of  the  most  important 
members  of  his  company,  and  he  proved 
it  by  raising  our  salaries  each  season.  I 
played  all  the  first  old  men,  and  Bob  the 
comedy  business.  We  had  a  joint  benefit 
every  year,  which  always  turned  out  well. 
Thus  all  went  bravely,  and  we  were  happy 
and  contented,  until  I  discovered  that  Bob 
had  fallen  head  over  ears  in  love  with  a 
Scotch  lassie  and  begun  seriously  to  con- 
template matrimony.  I  felt  it  would  be 
a  great  mistake,  not  only  for  him,  but  for 
the  object  of  his  affections,  who  was  the 
daughter  of  poor  Scotch  country  people. 
Bob  was  young,  and  was  only  dawning  into 
a  position,  and  had  a  very  small  salary ;  so 
56 


NEW  ABELPHI  THEATRE 


SPECIAL 


Of 


And  make  hit  lart  appearance  la  the  abore  Th«»tr.,  wh«r«  he  appeared  eo  many  ynrs  by  faro?  of  the  public,  £f.i,  | 

pN^  WEDNESDAY  NEXT,  JULY  26,  1865 

W.  R«  CpPELAaJD,  Esq. 

Mr.  JTOtWivi 

MISS  RIGNOLD. 


riffHO  WHI.  A?P»A»  IK  THEEE  Oj1  THBIR  MOST  FAVOURITE  CHARACTERS 


of  LlT*rpool.  hu  kindly  flT«n  hU  aid  for  this  Night  only. 


MR.    HARRY   MACARTHY 


Edgar  of  Ravenswood 
rV      Caleb  Balderstone (buiw 


-       Mr.  J.  C.  COWPER 

„,  ,t^.)  ........  Mr  J.  H.  STODDART 


MISS    JINNY    FRANKLIN. 


WAN  Or  A  10 VSR 


HIM  <.ooi»  1 1  I 


TO  Bl  FOLLOWED  BY   THE   FAVOCT«ITE  TAHCE  OF  THE 


, itb  loafi  and  olebaud  Iiktt  Jig ) 


Mr.  H   M  ACAETHT 


I  CONCLUDE  WITH  THK  POPULAR  DRAMA  OF  THB 


WICKED  WIPE 

b-whlch  Kr.  0  KIITO.  Kr.  1C.  ROBSOV.  and  Kri.  W  H.  DBXTTTR  will  appxr  - 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

I,  as  his  senior,  thought  my  age  gave  me 
the  right  to  exert  a  little  authority.  He 
met  my  argument,  however,  as  to  the 
smallness  of  his  income,  in  a  way  that 
made  me  feel  somewhat  ashamed,  by  re- 
minding me  that  when  I  had  been  dis- 
charged, and  he  had  proffered  to  divide 
his  salary  with  me,  there  then  arose  no  such 
objection,  and  said  that  there  should  be 
no  difference  between  keeping  me  and  keep- 
ing Jeannie.  I  was  rather  nonplussed. 
However,  Bob  was  a  good,  sensible  chap, 
and  felt  it  somewhat  of  a  risky  step  to 
take,  and  so  matters  drifted  along  for  more 
than  a  year.  But  time  could  not  alter  the 
feelings  of  either,  for  if  ever  two  young 
people  truly  loved,  it  was  these  two.  One 
evening  he  did  not  turn  up  at  the  per- 
formance. I  sat  up  nearly  all  the  night 
waiting  for  him,  but  no  Bob  appeared. 
Next  day  I  received  a  letter  saying  he  and 
his  Jeannie  were  married  and  had  gone  to 
England.  I  felt  the  separation  keenly, 
and  was  lonely  without  him.  They  have 
both  been  dead  many  years.  They  had 
many  troubles  during  a  long  married  life, 
57 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

but  those  troubles  never  took  from  them 
their  strong  affection  for  each  other. 

At  the  end  of  the  season  Mr.  Pollock 
expressed  himself  as  anxious  that  I  should 
remain,  and  I  had  really  become  an  essen- 
tial and  important  member  of  his  company, 
also  rather  popular  with  the  audiences, 
which  was  very  gratifying  considering 
how  different  my  position  had  been  at  the 
beginning  of  my  Aberdeen  career.  I  told 
my  manager  that  although  I  fully  appre- 
ciated all  he  had  done  for  me,— and  he 
had  been  very  kind,— I  felt  I  could  not 
remain  without  my  brother.  So  I  bade 
good-by  to  Scotland,  and  I  have  never 
seen  it  since.  While  I  live  I  shall  ever 
remember  the  many  happy  years  passed 
there. 

My  father,  in  the  meantime,  had  left 
Glasgow,  and  he  was  now  engaged  at  the 
Adelphi  Theater  in  Liverpool.  So  to 
Liverpool  I  went,  and  spent  a  few  happy 
weeks  with  my  parents  and  brothers.  I 
could  find  no  opening  at  any  of  the 
theaters  in  that  city,  but  I  succeeded  in 
obtaining  an  engagement  with  Mr.  Mose- 
58 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

ley,  the  manager  of  the  theater  at  Brad- 
ford, in  Yorkshire.  This  engagement  was 
thought  to  be  a  desirable  one,  for  Moseley 
had  been  established  in  Bradford  for  many 
years.  Moreover,  the  season  was  long  and 
the  money  sure,  which  was  quite  a  consid- 
eration in  those  days.  Moseley  would  often 
have  a  short  season  also  in  Huddersfield, 
for  which  extra  people  were  engaged.  I 
was  disappointed  when  I  found  that  I  was 
sent  there  and  not  to  Bradford.  The  com-' 
pany  was  a  good  one.  The  Robertson  cir- 
cuit had  broken  up;  and  Mr.  Robertson 
was  now  the  stage -manager  at  Hudders- 
field,  while  his  son  Tom  Robertson  (who 
afterward  wrote  "Caste,"  "School,"  etc.) 
played  walking  gentleman  at  a  salary  of 
twenty-five  shillings  a  week.  Although, 
even  at  this  time,  he  was  writing,  he  had 
produced  no  play.  Upon  several  occasions 
he  invited  me  to  his  room  to  hear  him 
read  some  of  his  works,  and  he  would  ask 
my  opinion  of  them.  I  am  afraid  they 
were,  at  that  time,  a  little  beyond  my  com- 
prehension. 

The  season  at  Huddersfield  closed  in 
59 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

about  eight  weeks,  and  the  company  closed 
with  the  season.  I  had  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Moseley  saying  I  might  come  on  to  Brad- 
ford and  continue,  if  I  wished.  As  I  was 
the  only  one  in  the  company  who  was  so 
fortunate,  I  was  congratulated  by  all  my 
associates.  I  remember  Robertson  saying  : 
"You  lucky  fellow,  to  be  engaged  for 
Bradford  !  I  wish  I  were."  He  also  pro- 
posed to  me  that  I  should  purchase  of  him 
his  two  pairs  of  knee-breeches,  one  of  nan- 
keen and  the  other  of  doeskin,  saying  that 
they  would  be  useful,  and  that  he  would 
let  me  have  them  cheap.  I  bought  them 
from  him,  paying  half  a  crown  for  one  pair 
and  eighteenpence  for  the  other.  I  have 
them  yet,  and  when,  in  later  years,  Tom 
Robertson  became  the  brilliant  author,  I 
often  looked  at  those  old  breeches  and 
wondered  if  the  plays  which  he  read  to 
me  in  his  little  room  in  Huddersfield  were 
those  which  were  produced  in  his  famous 
time. 

I  remained  with  the  Bradford  company 
for  two  years.      Dominick  Murray  and 
Lysander  Thompson— the  latter  an  excel - 
60 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

lent  actor  of  Yorkshire  characters,  who 
afterward  came  to  America— were  mem- 
bers of  Mr.  Moseley's  company  at  that 
time.  John  Dyott,  afterward  a  member 
of  Wallack's  Broome  Street  Theater,  had 
also  been  connected  with  this  company. 
John  Dyott  was  a  capital  actor,  and  one 
of  Mr.  Wallack's  principal  members  $  he 
was  well  known  and  quite  popular  in  New 
York  at  the  Broome  Street  house.  All 
theater-goers  knew  Dyott  well,  and  liked 
him  both  on  and  off  the  stage.  He  had  a 
standing  joke  which  he  repeated  to  us  each 
night  on  entering  the  theater.  "Boys," 
he  would  say,  "I  met  a  man  on  Broadway, 
and  he  said  to  me :  '  John,  do  you  know 
why  you  '11  never  die  cold?  Because 
you  '11  die-ot !  '  " 

My  brother  George,  who  had  been  for 
several  years  with  Mr.  Copeland,  manager 
of  the  Theater  Royal  and  also  the  Am- 
phitheater in  Liverpool,  sent  me  word  that 
he  had  spoken  about  me,  and  that  Mr. 
Copeland  had  said  he  would  be  pleased  to 
hear  from  me.  I  therefore  wrote  to  him 
and  the  result  was  that  I  left  Bradford 
61 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

and  went  to  Liverpool.  This  was  by  far 
my  most  important  engagement,  and  after 
a  time  I  had  a  very  responsible  position. 
All  the  stars  from  London  whom  I  had 
met  as  a  child  in  Glasgow  I  now  supported 
in  prominent  parts.  As  my  father  was 
still  at  the  Adelphi,  we  all  lived  together, 
and  were  very  jolly.  My  brother  Eobert 
and  his  wife  also  came  to  live  at  Liver- 
pool, so  we  were  all  employed  at  the 
different  theaters  of  the  city.  It  was  a 
renewal  of  old  times.  As  the  theaters 
kept  open  all  the  year,  the  engagements 
were  very  desirable.  At  this  time  my 
salary  was  thirty  shillings  per  week,  and 
I  played  all  the  principal  old  men. 

As  I  had  conceived  the  idea  of  possess- 
ing a  fine  stock  of  wigs,  I  ordered  Mr. 
Taylor,  the  theatrical  wig-maker,  to  make 
a  new  one  for  me  every  week  for  an  en- 
tire season.  Every  wig  that  I  saw  on  the 
head  of  another  actor,  and  that  I  thought 
a  good  one,  I  asked  Mr.  Taylor  to  dupli- 
cate. It  so  happened  that  William  Farren 
came  to  play  at  the  Theater  Eoyal,  and 
one  of  his  parts  was  Grandfather  Whitehead. 
62 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

I  was  completely  delighted  with  the  wig 
he  wore  in  this  character.  This  wig,  made 
to  represent  a  bald  head,  instead  of  the 
old  familiar  muslin  or  calico  had  a  natu- 
ral polished  scalp,  and  was  the  first  one 
of  the  kind  I  had  ever  seen.  As  Farren 
walked  into  the  green-room,  made  up,  I 
could  not  keep  my  eyes  off  him.  Mr. 
Taylor,  the  wig-maker,  had  dressed  the 
wig,  and  he  came  to  the  theater  at  night 
to  adjust  it.  The  wig  was  so  well  made 
that  no  observer  could  detect  where  it 
joined  the  forehead  of  the  actor.  In  the 
old  days  this  was  frequently  not  the  case. 
I  have  often  seen  actors  come  to  the 
theater  late,  and  put  on  their  wigs  like 
nightcaps,  daubing  powder  on  their  fore- 
heads, and  fancying  themselves  properly 
made  up.  I  asked  Taylor  about  Farren's 
wig,  and  how  it  was  made.  "Well,"  said 
Taylor,  "the  wig,  I  imagine,  was  built  in 
France.  The  scalp  is  as  hard  as  a  board, 
flesh-colored,  and  shines.  Then,  he  uses  a 
composition  or  cement,  the  same  color  as 
the  bald  portion  of  the  wig,  which  he 
heats  over  the  gas,  with  a  small  brush  in 
63 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

it,  and  when  the  cement  is  thoroughly 
melted,  he  paints  his  forehead  and  the 
lower  part  of  the  wig,  giving  the  whole 
three  coats.  It  is  a  wonderful  invention, 
but  I  think  I  could  duplicate  it."  I 
quickly  instructed  him  to  do  so.  It  hap- 
pened that  Mr.  Barry  Sullivan  came  to 
play  an  engagement  after  Farren,  one  of 
his  pieces  being  "The  Gamester,"  in  which 
I  was  cast  as  Jarvis,  a  very  old  man. 
"Here,"  thought  I,  "is  my  chance  to  wear 
the  Farren  wig."  Taylor  promised  to 
have  it  ready,  and  he  kept  his  word.  I 
had  my  cement-brush,  etc.,  but  the  wig 
could  not  be  made  to  sit  snugly  on  the  top 
of  my  head  ;  it  had  rather  the  appearance 
of  a  well-developed  cocoanut.  However, 
we  both  thought  that  it  did  n't  much 
matter,  as  it  had  such  a  beautiful  polish. 
"Beginners"  were  called,  and  I  left  my 
dressing-room  for  the  green-room,  where 
most  of  the  characters  were  assembled. 
When  I  made  my  appearance  with  my 
new  wig,  they  were  convulsed  with  laugh- 
ter, and  Barry  Sullivan,  who  was  known 
to  be  the  most  disagreeable  of  men,  said  : 
64 


Theatre   RoyaT,     Co  vent-Garde  a 

This  prefent  MONDAY,  O&ober  24.  1814, 

^^^^  Wi  1  be  »8lcd  Su \r.*r*  ASE'S  Tjagedy  of 

It  oin  co  and  Juliet. 

Prince  Elbrus  by  Mr.  CLAREMQNT,    Paris  by  *{r.  HAMERTON, 

'Montague,  Mr.  CUESWELL,    Capulet,  Mr:EGEUTON 

fcomoo  bv  Mr.    CON  WAV,  Mercatio,  Mr.  JONES,    Kenvolio,  Mr.  JEFFERIKS 
•iybalt  Mv  BAURYMOitK,  FriarUumice  Mr  MURRAY,  Fri^.fohn  .MrMOVt'KLL 
Aj»W'rsccar\\  Mr  iVrby,     P»g<v  Matter  Chapman,     Ualth-s&r  by  Mr  Durufet 
Ali.Saij.mt,  .Sumibn  Mf  Atkins,  Gretrory  Mr  Crumptoa, /i'eter  Mr  Si.vt.vuNs 
Ladv  Capulet  by  Mi*.  RKN  \UD, 

Jaliot  by  fttift  Q'NEILL. 
f  lieiity  her  $>h  fi'rf-.-jrftnce  in  tint  tih'irnelerj 

Nurfe  by  r\Irs  DAVENl^RT. 

Ii>  Aft  J. 

^    MASQUERADE    a»d    DANCE 

JNC1OFNTA1.    Tt>    THK     PLAY. 

.     The  Funeral  Proceffion  cf  Juliet,  and  a  Solemn  Dirg(^. 

2J:et'ocaJl'ti'itby  MoiT.  Bro»ohurft,  I   Brows,  Ever  rd,  L-x>,  Luuon,   Viouta^ue,  No.fii 

T^yl^r,  J.  Taylor,  Terry.  •  et ,  S.  »'et%  nnn:y,  '    a'ton,  WiUwmj, 
Mefdi.T-.es  "Silbop,  Brtlogtra,  Carrw,  Cortes,  C'orr,  D  virs,  tim^rv,  Fiud!av,  («rim*Lii,  Hrath,  Il.ff 

l.cferve,  Lifton,  Log  n,  Louis.  >!atthe.-s,  Ryall,  S?xton,  St«nci«ii,  \Vatts.\VSiinKire. 
After  wKieh,  t$th  rii»tf,a  N.c-v  M-'!c-Dr.uuu,  in  3  a<*T>,  (f 'M--ded  oa  an  llJftoric.il  Kail)  called  THE- 

Forest  of  Bondy  ; 

Or,  The  DOG  of  MONTARGIS. 

Colonel   Gontnm    by    Mr.    BARRYMORE, 

Capt.  Aubri  by  Mr.  ABBQ'IT,     Lieut.  Macaire    by    Mr.     F  A  R  L  E  Y. 
Lieut.  Landry  by  Mr.  HAMERTON,  The  Senefchal  of  Boi^dy  by  Mr.EGERTOtfj 

Florio     (a   Dumb    Orphan)     by     Mi&    S.     BOOTH, 

Blaife    by    Mr.    LISTON,        Enfign,  Mr,  DURTJSET,        Sergeant,  Mr.  F^OWELI. 
Dame  Gertrude,  Mrs.  DAVENPORT,   Annette  Mrs.  NORMAN,    Louife  Mifs  Ws'si 

Lucille    by    Mils    FOOTE. 
In  a£ll.  a  Paftoral  Pas  de  Deux  byMonf.Soiflbns&Mrs  Parker 


t.  Si^ir-ftrtet.  t -n^ou     ,  »!V*irr    »r.V    1    HE 


O  N  E  I  L  L's 

Performances  continue  to  be  greeted  with  the  cnthufiaftick  admiration  of  overflow- 
ing audiences— the,  wilt  repeat  the  character  of  BKLVIDERA  on  Wednefday  and 
on  Friday  next — and  the  part  of  JULIET  on  every  Monday  till  further  notice. 

V    Mr.    K  E  M  B  L  E  s 

Nights  of  performing  will  be  Tomorrow,  on  Thurfday  and  Saturday. 
*ft*    No   Orders  can  be  admitted. 

"The  New  Me"io-Drema~~calied  » 

The  FOREST  of  BON  DY;    or,  The  DOG  ofMQNTARGIS, 

being  tuJly  eftaMsihed  in  the  highefl  decree  or' popular  favour  and  attradlioo,  will  be  repeated 

Tomorrow ,  Thursday  and  Friday  next, 

Tomarrno,     the  Tragedy  of    CA'iX?.  Cato    by     Mr.     1CEMBLE. 

Qn  Wfdiufday,  OT«AY'S  Trafedv  of  VENICE  PRESERVED. 

J:,fEcr  by  Mr.  CONW,;Y,  Pierre  by  Mr.  YuUNG. 

Belvidfru     by     M  fs     O'NEILL,      (Being  her  tfk  appietra»ce  in  that  chamber) 

With  UlCHAKD  CCEUR  1>K  LION-     -    Matilda,  Mifs  STEI'H^NS. 
On  Tfarfday,  Sha.  .freare'*  Tragarly  of     HAMLET.          Hamlet    by  Mr.    KEMBLE. 
OnSaturdiy,  £hxkf[>e-irc's  Tr»^edy  of  JULIUS  CfiSAJl. 
Brutus  by  Mr.  k'J,MBLE,       Marc  A.itony  by  Mr.  CON  WAY,       Caffiusby  Mr,  YOUNG. 

The  Opera  of    THE    MAID    OF    THE    MILL, 
having  been  revived,  and  a&ed  twice  wiih  the  grer.tert  fiiccefs,  vt  ill  be  repeated  on  iuefduy  l/?Nov. 

*»*   Ike  I'ublick  are  jtfpe&juliy  informed  that 
A  New  Opera,  in  two  afls,  has  been  fonie'time  in  rebcarf.:!,  called 

JOHN,     OF     PARIS, 

aa.l  will  b«  pioduccu  as  f<x>n  as  po&ble. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

"For  heaven's  sake,  take  that  porringer 
off  your  head,  or  you  don't  play  Jarvis 
with  me."  Taylor,  who  had  come  to  the 
theater  to  view  his  handiwork,  hearing 
this  remark,  made  his  exit  from  the 
stage-door,  and  I  ignominiously  sought  my 
dressing-room,  and  there  removed  the  wig 
of  which  I  had  hoped  so  much,  putting  on 
one  of  the  old  make.  I  never  repeated 
the  experiment  until  I  came  to  America. 
During  this  engagement  Sullivan  had 
trouble,  on  one  occasion,  with  a  person  in 
the  audience.  The  play  was  "Hamlet," 
and  in  a  lower  private  box  there  sat  a 
gentleman  alone,  who  was  not  paying  the 
slightest  attention  to  the  play,  but  seemed 
to  be  interested  in  a  newspaper  which  he 
was  assiduously  reading.  As  Sullivan 
began  the  soliloquy,  "To  be  or  not  to  be, 
that  is  the  question,"  the  individual  in 
the  private  box  continued  to  read  his 
paper.  At  this  Sullivan  could  stand  it  no 
longer,  and  walking  down  the  stage  and 
addressing  the  offender,  "Sir,"  he  said, 
"when  you  have  finished  reading  that 
paper  I  will  go  on,  but  not  until  then." 
5  65 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYEE 

The  gentleman  in  the  box,  coolly  folding 
up  his  paper,  put  it  in  his  pocket,  and, 
adjusting  his  hat  upon  his  head,  replied : 
"  Thank  you,  I  have  seen  and  heard  quite 
enough.  Good  evening."  He  then  walked 
out  of  the  theater,  and  the  tragedian  re- 
sumed his  soliloquy.  Sullivan  was  a 
favorite  in  Liverpool,  Manchester,  and 
other  provincial  cities,  but  never  in  Lon- 
don. While  Macready  was  playing  Mac- 
beth at  the  Theater  Royal,  Mr.  Copeland  in- 
duced Sullivan  to  play  Macduff;  but  when 
he  saw  Macready's  name  in  larger  letters 
than  his  own,  he  left  for  Manchester,  and 
would  not  act.  He  was  a  clever  man,  but 
ill-tempered,  and  he  was  much  disliked 
on  account  of  his  irritating  personal  pecu- 
liarities. 

William  Farren  played  a  farewell  en- 
gagement in  Liverpool  a  little  while  be- 
fore I  left  for  America,  but  oh,  how 
changed  !  His  appearance  was  the  same 
as  ever,  but  his  voice  had  become  almost 
inarticulate,  and  it  was  difficult  to  under- 
stand him.  He  brought  down  from  Lon- 
don one  of  the  greatest  actors  of  his  time, 
66 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

Mr.  Eobson— "Little  Robson,"  as  lie  was 
called,  small  in  stature,  but  a  giant  in 
ability.  Farren  would  begin  the  per- 
formance with  one  of  the  old  comedies,— 
such  as  "The  Hypocrite,"  in  which  he 
played  Doctor  Cantwell,  "London  Assur- 
ance," in  which  he  played  Sir  Harcourt 
Courtly,  or  "The  Rivals,"  in  which  he 
played  Sir  Anthony  Absolute,— and  "Little 
Robson"  played,  as  an  afterpiece,  each 
evening  during  the  engagement,  only  the 
one  part  of  ShylocJc  in  a  burlesque  of  the 
"Merchant  of  Venice,"  entitled  "The  Mer- 
chant of  Venice  Preserved."  In  this  his 
acting  was  marvelous.  Farren  used  to 
stand  at  the  wing  every  night  to  see  him 
play  the  scene  with  Tubal,  in  which  Shy- 
lock  hears  of  his  daughter's  flight ;  and  I 
have  heard  Farren  say  that  Robson's  per- 
formance was  as  great  as  Edmund  Kean's. 
All  the  principal  London  people,  one 
following  the  other,  would  come  down 
and  play  at  the  Theater  Royal ;  so  it  was 
my  good  fortune  to  see  and  to  be  associated 
with  Macready,  Helen  Faucit,  Charlotte 
Cushman,  Phelps,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Charles 
67 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

Kean,  Webster  and  Celeste,  Charles  Ma- 
thews,  Mme.  Vestris,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kee- 
ley,  Buckstone,  Mrs.  Fitzwilliam,  Wright, 
Paul  Bedford,  and  many  others.  Al- 
though I  was  at  that  time,  as  I  thought, 
getting  on  well  in  my  profession,  and  had 
received  many  compliments  as  to  my 
ability,  in  witnessing  the  efforts  of  these 
artists  I  felt  myself  to  be  an  insignificant 
being  ,•  and  I  was  glad  to  be  sensible 
enough  to  know  it.  All  these  stars  would 
fill  out  the  season  until  the  production  of 
the  Christmas  pantomime,  when  we  played 
stock  pieces  with  the  regular  stock  com- 
pany. Then  every  one  had  to  do  what- 
ever was  required  of  him.  The  conse- 
quence was  that  a  member  would  have  a 
fine  part  one  night,  and  a  few  lines  to  speak 
the  next.  I  can  remember  playing  Sir  Har- 
court  Courtly  in  "London  Assurance,"  and, 
during  the  same  evening,  going  on  as  a 
baker  in  the  comic  scenes  of  the  panto- 
mime, a  board  of  loaves  upon  my  head,  and 
being  knocked  down  by  the  clown  and 
pelted  with  my  own  bread  by  the  panta- 
loon. 

68 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

My  brother  George  had  received  the 
offer  of  an  engagement  at  a  new  theater 
in  Boston,  in  the  United  States,  under  the 
management  of  a  Mr.  Fleming.  George 
had  already  married  Miss  Ann  Taylor, 
and  they  had  an  infant  daughter  (who  is 
now,  1902,  Mrs.  Neil  Burgess).  Miss 
Taylor,  like  my  brother,  had  been  with 
Mr.  Copeland  for  several  years.  As  George 
had,  therefore,  an  extra  claim  upon  his 
exertions,  and  the  American  salary  was 
nearly  double  that  received  in  England, 
he  resolved  to  make  the  venture.  We  all 
went  down  to  the  landing-stage  and  saw 
him  and  his  family  off,  doubting  if  we 
should  ever  see  them  again.  The  crossing 
of  the  Atlantic,  in  those  days,  was  con- 
sidered a  more  serious  matter  than  it  is 
now.  In  fact,  I  remember,  when  we  used 
to  play  with  other  boys  in  Glasgow,  there 
was  one  of  our  playmates  who  was  quite 
looked  up  to  because  of  the  fact  that  his 
father  had  been  to  America. 

Our  letters  from  America,  during  the 
ensuing  winter,  told  of  George's  success  in 
Boston,  and  how  much  he  liked  the  coun- 
69 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A    PLAYER 

try.  The  chances,  he  said,  were  much 
better  for  success  in  the  New  World,  and 
he  advised  us  all  to  come  out.  I  made  up 
my  mind  that  I  would  go,  but  my  other 
brothers  thought  they  would  wait  to  see 
how  I  succeeded  before  they  made  the 
venture.  My  father  determined  that  if  I 
went  he  would  go  with  me.  As  it  was  not 
thought  prudent  to  arrive  in  New  York 
much  before  the  opening  of  the  next  regu- 
lar season,  my  father  had  ample  time  for 
reflection.  It  was  comic  to  note  his  change 
of  mind  and  the  different  conclusions  he 
reached.  My  mother  was  non-committal, 
saying  she  was  willing  to  abide  by  father's 
decision ;  but  this  placed  her  in  rather  an 
uncertain  position,  as  he  altered  his  mind 
each  day.  When  the  weather  was  fine  he 
would  say  :  "Mary,  my  dear,  what  a  treat 
the  voyage  will  be  !  It  will  do  you  more 
good  than  all  the  doctors  in  Liverpool." 
Then,  when  clouds  obscured  the  sky  and 
the  wind  blew  strong  and  cold,  he  would 
completely  change  his  views,  saying  :  "My 
dear,  I  don't  exactly  see  my  way  clear  in 
this  matter.  Crossing  the  Atlantic  at  our 
70 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

time  of  life  is  a  risky  business,  and  I  really 
think  George  was  inconsiderate  in  advis- 
ing it."  Perhaps  the  very  next  day  he 
would  say  to  me :  "Well,  Jim,  how  about 
this  American  trip  ? "  and  upon  my  reply- 
ing that  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  go, 

he  would  immediately  say  :  "Then,  d 

it,  I  '11  go  too."  I  could  not  know  surely 
about  his  movements  until  a  few  days  be- 
fore sailing,  when  we  had  to  make  the 
necessary  arrangements.  My  father  had 
a  friend  named  Page,  who  was  the  captain 
of  a  sailing-ship  called  the  Washington,  and 
when  he  heard  of  father's  intention  he 
suggested  that  we  cross  with  him.  His 
wife,  he  said,  was  going,  and  it  would  be 
pleasant  for  her,  as  also  for  Mrs.  Stoddart. 
The  result  was  that  we  crossed  in  the 
Washington. 

Mr.  Copeland,  our  manager,  seemed 
sorry  that  I  was  leaving,  and  said  that  he 
would  add  ten  shillings  a  week  to  my  sal- 
ary if  I  would  remain.  But  even  this  did 
not  tempt  me.  I  was  not  to  be  persuaded 
from  my  determination  to  visit  America. 
He  treated  me  very  well,  for  when  he 
71 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

found  I  was  resolved,  he  told  me  that  the 
principal  theater  in  New  York  was  man- 
aged by  a  friend  of  his,  Mr.  James  W. 
Wallack,  who  had  played  many  engage- 
ments with  him  in  Liverpool,  and  that  I 
might  use  his  name,  by  way  of  introduc- 
tion, when  I  reached  New  York. 

My  brothers  Robert  and  Richard  came 
down  to  the  dock  to  see  us  off ;  my  young- 
est brother,  Ben,  being  too  young  to  be 
left  behind,  came  with  us.  On  a  bright 
morning  in  midsummer  we  set  sail.  We 
had  comfortable  quarters,  and  the  captain 
seemed  resolved  to  make  things  agreeable 
for  us.  We  were  all  jolly  for  a  time  ;  but 
my  mirth  was  short-lived,  as  the  motion 
of  the  ship  soon  began  to  tell  on  me,  and 
after  we  got  to  sea  I  became  downright 
ill.  I  was  put  to  bed,  and  I  never  knew 
another  moment's  comfort  until  the  pilot- 
boat  took  us  in  charge  off  Long  Island. 
My  father  was  a  capital  sailor— he  would 
walk  up  and  down  the  deck  for  hours, 
smoking  his  pipe ;  but  my  mother  was 
almost  as  ill  as  I  was  during  the  trip.  The 
voyage  lasted  six  weeks,  the  weather  be- 
ing stormy  during  the  greater  part  of  the 
72 


James  W.  Wallack. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

time.  I  was  in  my  berth  nearly  all  the 
time,  eating  little  and  suffering  much. 
Toward  the  end  of  the  voyage  my  father 
insisted  on  taking  me  from  my  berth  and 
getting  me  up  on  deck.  He  had  to  carry 
me  in  his  arms  to  do  so.  I  must  have 
been  a  wretched  spectacle,  as  I  had  not 
been  able  to  shave  for  four  weeks.  Many 
who  knew  not  of  my  presence  on  board 
were  startled  at  my  appearance,  regarding 
me,  I  have  no  doubt,  as  some  Yander- 
decken,  or  monster  of  the  deep.  The 
weather  was  then  calm  and  beautiful,  so, 
to  a  certain  extent,  I  was  benefited  by 
the  change  j  but  toward  evening  it  began 
to  blow,  and,  my  former  symptoms  return- 
ing, I  was  glad  again  to  seek  the  seclusion 
of  my  bunk.  If  the  ship  had  been  fated 
to  go  to  the  bottom,  and  I  fully  cognizant 
of  the  fact,  the  realization  would  not  have 
caused  me  much  anxiety.  At  this  time  it 
was  brought  home  to  me  that  I  had  been 
lucky  to  escape  when  I  did  not  succeed, 
as  a  boy,  in  making  the  sea  my  business. 
But  as  all  things  come  to  an  end,  so  did 
this  voyage. 

On  a  beautiful  August  day  "in  1854  I 
73 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

had  my  first  glimpse  of  the  shores  of 
America. 

Captain  Page  had  given  us  the  address 
of  a  person  in  New  York  where  he  thought 
we  might  be  accommodated  with  board 
and  lodging.  Here  we  were  comfortable 
but  for  frequent  attacks  of  clouds  of  mos- 
quitos.  I  had  a  friend,  a  member  of  Mr. 
Copeland's  Liverpool  company,  who  was 
a  native  American,  and  he  had  first  ad- 
vised me  to  go  to  America,  as  to  which 
country  he  was  enthusiastic.  He  told  me 
that  the  principal  theaters  in  New  York 
were  Mr.  Wallack's  and  Mr.  Burton's,  and 
that  if  I  could  succeed  in  getting  into 
either  I  should  be  well  placed  for  the  rest 
of  my  life.  I  remember  that  he  had  grown 
enthusiastic,  telling  me  that  I  certainly 
should  double  the  salary  which  I  then 
received,  probably  getting  three  pounds 
(fifteen  dollars)  a  week  at  first,  and  that, 
with  good  luck,  I  might  eventually  receive 
a  salary  of  five  pounds  (twenty-five  dol- 
lars) a  week.  My  friend,  whose  name 
was  Morehouse,  had  married  Miss  Fanny 
Wallack,  a  cousin  of  Lester  Wallack. 
74 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

Charles  Morehouse  made  his  first  ap- 
pearance in  America  September  5, 1848,  at 
the  Park,  under  Hamblin's  management, 
as  Numitorius  in  "  Virginius."  He  was  the 
original  of  the  Drunkard.  He  never  re- 
turned from  England.  Fanny  Wallack 
died  in  Edinburgh,  October  12, 1856,  aged 
thirty-four. 

I  had  brought  with  me  to  America  some 
playbills  containing  my  name  in  various 
casts  for  principal  characters,  and  I  was 
told  by  Mr.  Parsloe,  who  was  at  that  time, 
I  believe,  the  only  dramatic  agent  in  New 
York  (hehad  an  office  in  Chambers  Street), 
that  he  thought  I  might  dismiss  the  idea 
of  doing  business  with  either  Wallack  or 
Burton,  as  each  had  a  company  which  was 
fully  made  up  and  difficult  to  enter.  He 
said  that  there  was  a  company  being 
formed  by  Mr.  Forbes  for  the  theater  at 
Providence,  Ehode  Island,  and  he  thought 
he  might  place  me  there.  I  told  him  that 
in  the  event  of  my  not  succeeding  in  New 
York  I  should  be  glad  to  go  to  Providence. 
As  I  left  him  he  said  that  he  knew  of  no 
actor  in  the  country  who  would  not  be 
75 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

pleased  to  play  anything  with  Mr.  Wai- 
lack,  and  at  Wallack's  own  terms ;  but  I 
was  not  to  be  discouraged,  so  I  determined 
to  approach  Mr.  Wallack,  and  thereupon 
wrote  to  him  a  letter,  in  which  I  said  that 
I  had  been  a  member  of  Mr.  Copeland's 
company  in  Liverpool,  and  had  acted  im- 
portant parts  both  at  the  Amphitheater 
and  the  Theater  Royal  in  that  city,  and 
that  Mr.  Copeland  had  said  that  he  was 
well  known  to  Mr.  Wallack,  and  had 
given  me  permission  to  use  his  name 
by  way  of  introduction ;  also  that  if  he 
thought  he  could  make  room  for  me,  I 
should  be  pleased  to  place  myself  under 
his  guidance. 

I  received  no  reply  for  more  than  a 
week,  and  had  given  up  all  hope  when, 
one  morning,  a  letter  came  from  Mr.  Wal- 
lack, to  the  effect  that  he  would  see  me 
the  next  day.  This  letter  created  excite- 
ment. I  dressed  myself  carefully  in  all  my 
best.  Mother  said,  "Good  luck  to  you,77 
and  father,  "Don7t  forget  your  playbills,77 
and  off  I  went.  I  had  always  understood 
that  Mr.  Wallack  was  one  of  our  greatest 
76 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

actors,  so  I  was  a  little  nervous  when  I 
knocked  at  his  office  door.  But  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  received  me  put  me  at 
once  at  my  ease.  He  shook  me  by  the 
hand,  and  asked  about  his  friend  Copeland, 
saying  he  was  always  glad  to  meet  any  one 
from  England,  at  which  his  son  Lester  re- 
marked (looking  at  me  through  an  eye- 
glass) :  "Yes,  and  there  is  little  doubt  as 
to  where  he  comes  from ;  look  at  his  hat 
and  his  boots." 

Mr.  Wallack  then  asked  me  what  I 
thought  I  could  do  best,  and  I  explained 
to  him  that,  although  a  young  man,  I  had 
always  played  old  men.  I  then  presented 
my  playbills,  which  he  examined,  and, 
noticing  that  of  "As  You  Like  It,"  said  : 
"Ah,  I  see  you  have  been  on  for  old  Adam." 
I  thought  his  words,  "been  on  for  old 
Adam,"  suggested  a  doubt  of  my  ability  to 
play  it.  Fortunately  I  had  a  newspaper 
clipping  containing  favorable  mention  of 
my  performance  of  that  part,  and  this  I 
presented.  It  did  not  seem  to  impress 
him.  At  last  he  said  :  "Well,  Mr.  Blake 
plays  the  part  with  me.  You,  of  course, 
77 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

never  saw  Blake."  I  was  forced  to  admit 
that  I  had  not.  "Oh,  a  great  actor  ! "  said 
Wallack.  And  afterward,  when  I  had  seen 
Blake,  I  fully  agreed  with  this  opinion. 

Mr.  Wallack  continued  that  he  did  not 
know  what  he  could  say  to  me,  as  his  com- 
pany was  very  full,  in  fact,  as  he  said, 
comprising  almost  every  one  of  any  note 
in  the  country.  "My  company  is  large," 
he  said,  "and  expensive,  and  my  theater 
small ;  but  if,  as  you  say  in  your  note,  you 
are  willing  to  place  yourself  under  my 
direction,  I  will  give  you  fifteen  dollars 
a  week  to  begin  [strange  coincidence  !  the 
very  sum  which  Mr.  Morehouse  told  me  I 
should  at  first  receive] ,  and  if  I  find  you 
answer  my  purpose,  why,  in  time  I  may  do 
better  by  you."  The  twenty-five  dollars 
a  week  which,  according  to  Morehouse, 
would  be  the  ultimate  result  of  my  exer- 
tions, seemed  to  rise  before*  me.  I  thanked 
Mr.  Wallack  for  his  kindness,  assured  him 
of  the  gratification  it  would  give  me  to 
feel  myself  under  so  able  a  director,  and 
bowed  myself  out. 

I  scarcely  know  how  I  reached  home. 
78 


KECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYER 

I  rushed  into  the  room  where  father  and 
mother  and  my  brother  Ben  were,  shout- 
ing out  in  my  exultation  :  "I  am  engaged 
by  Wallack."  "No/7  said  my  father. 
"Yes,"  I  said,  "and  for  three  pounds  a 
week."  "I  am  devilish  glad  we  came 
over,"  continued  my  father.  My  poor 
mother  was  anxious  to  know  if  it  was 
owing  to  the  playbills  that  I  had  achieved 
this  wonderful  success. 

In  a  few  days  a  meeting  of  the  company 
was  called.  Mr.  Frederick  Chippindale, 
who  was  to  have  played  quite  a  long  part 
in  the  afterpiece  on  the  opening  night, 
could  not  act  on  account  of  the  death  of 
his  child.  The  name  of  the  play  was  "A 
Phenomenon  in  a  Smock  Frock,"  and  the 
part  was  Mr.  Sowerby.  In  Mr.  Chippindale's 
absence  I  was  put  on  for  this  character, 
and  in  it  I  made  my  first  appearance  in 
New  York,  September  7,  1854.  The  per- 
formance was  opened  with  the  singing  of 
"The  Star-Spangled  Banner,"  the  company 
being  discovered  upon  the  stage  at  the 
rise  of  the  curtain.  There  was  a  lady, 
Miss  Matilda  Phillips,  who  sang  the  last 
79 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

verse  of  the  national  song  and  afterward 
played  in  the  last  piece,  in  whom,  even  on 
this  our  first  meeting,  I  at  once  felt  much 
interest— a  deep  and  lasting  interest, 
which  has  continued  to  the  present  day 
and  can  never  be  effaced. 

The  first  night's  performance  seemed  to 
please.  The  first  piece  was  a  comedy, 
"The  Irish  Heiress."  I  remember  that 
after  it  Mr.  Wallack  was  called  before  the 
curtain,  and  he  made  a  speech  thanking 
his  patrons  for  their  kind  reception  of  the 
old  favorites,  and  incidentally  alluding  to 
a  gentleman  from  England  who  had  yet 
to  appear,  and  who,  he  hoped,  would  find 
a  place  in  their  affections.  I  was  sorry  he 
thus  drew  attention  to  me,  as  it  interfered 
with  my  efforts.  However,  I  got  through 
tolerably  well.  Mr.  Felix  Vincent,  who 
played  the  comedy  part,— the  principal 
one  in  the  piece,— I  thought  very  clever. 

As  I  saw  more  of  the  company  my  eyes 
were  opened  to  its  strength  and  individual 
ability.  I  had  been  associated,  as  boy  and 
man,  with  all  the  great  artists  of  the  old 
country,— had  seen  giants  individually,— 
80 


John  Brougham. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

but  it  had  never  been  my  good  fortune  to 
behold,  in  its  entirety,  such  a  company  as 
this,  including  as  it  did  William  Rufus 
Blake,  the  elder  Wallack,  John  Lester 
(known  later  as  Lester  Wallack),  Charles 
Walcot,  Sr.,  John  Dyott,  John  Brougham, 
Laura  Keene,  Mrs.  Blake,  Mrs.  Stevens, 
Mrs.  Brougham,  Humphrey  Bland,  Felix 
Vincent,  and  a  host  of  others.  Most  of 
them  had  been  associated  year  after  year, 
and  knew  one  another's  style,  and  they 
played  so  well  into  one  another's  hands 
that  the  result  was  admirable.  I  do  not 
think  the  old  comedies  were  ever  better 
played.  I  have  of  late  mentioned  the 
name  of  Blake  and  the  names  of  other 
prominent  members  of  this  company,  and 
I  find  many  clever  people  of  to-day  who 
have  never  heard  of  those  artists.  "Are 
we  so  soon  forgot  when  we  are  gone*?" 

In  the  early  fifties  John  Brougham  was, 
I  think,  the  most  popular  actor  in  Amer- 
ica. Everybody  interested  in  theatricals 
knew  and  liked  him.  He  was  the  most 
happy  extemporaneous  speaker,  I  believe, 
I  ever  heard.  The  public  was  well  aware 
6  81 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

of  the  fact,  and  in  consequence  had  him 
before  the  curtain  as  frequently  as  possible. 
His  speeches  often  proved  to  be  the  most 
enjoyable  portion  of  the  evening's  per- 
formance. In  the  roles  of  gentlemanly 
Irishmen,  such  as  Sir  Lucius  O' Trigger  in 
"The  Rivals,"  and  A  Gentleman  from  Ire- 
land in  the  play  of  that  name,  I  considered 
him  unapproachable. 

My  father,  mother,  and  Ben  went  to 
visit  my  brother  George,  who  was  then 
acting  in  Boston,  so  I  had  to  provide  my- 
self with  a  new  abode.  I  was  fortunate  in 
being  accommodated  in  the  house  of  a  Mr. 
James  Smith,  who  lived  in  Marion  Street. 
The  Marion  Street  of  1854  was  not  as  it 
is  to-day.  Many  good  families  lived  in 
Marion  Street  at  that  time.  Mr.  Wai- 
lack's  house  was  in  Crosby  Street,  and  a 
charming  home  it  was.  Many  a  time  the 
members  of  his  company  have  met  in  his 
parlor  to  hear  him  read  a  new  play,  and 
they  would  always  be  invited  to  take  a 
glass  of  wine  and  light  refreshments  at  its 
conclusion.  Bleecker  Street,  in  those  days, 
was  a  fashionable  thoroughfare,  and  many 
82 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

of  the  finest  people  had  their  residences  as 
far  down-town  as  the  Battery.  While  I 
was  acting  at  the  Broome  Street  house  I 
used  sometimes  to  walk  up  Broadway  after 
rehearsal,  and  upon  reaching  the  region 
where  are  situated  most  of  the  theaters 
of  to-day,  would  find  myself  compara- 
tively "out  of  town."  To  Harlem  was  a 
journey. 

I  lived  with  Mr.  Smith  until  I  married, 
and  I  found  him  a  charming  person.  He 
was  a  product  of  the  times,  not  polished, 
but  manly  and  good,  a  typical  American 
of  a  class  then  common  but  now  seldom 
seen— a  Democratic  politician,  a  con- 
tractor, a  fireman,  and,  in  fact,  "one  of 
the  boys."  He  used  to  keep  his  fireman's 
helmet  hanging  over  his  head  where  he 
slept,  and  his  boots  close  by,  so  that  he 
could  jump  into  them  at  a  moment's  no- 
tice ;  and  when  he  heard  an  alarm  of  fire, 
in  three  leaps  he  was  at  the  bottom  of  the 
stairs.  He  was  never  so  much  in  his 
glory  as  when  running  "wid  de  machine." 
As  was  the  custom  in  those  days,  he  would 
take  a  basket  on  his  arm  and  go  person- 
83 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

ally  to  Center  Market,  and  there  purchase 
all  that  was  required  for  the  household  in 
the  way  of  provisions.  I  occupied  one  of 
the  best  rooms  in  the  house,  and  was  al- 
ways admonished  to  help  myself  to  any- 
thing and  everything  on  his  sideboard  that 
I  fancied.  His  breakfasts  were  like  din- 
ners, and  if  I  declined,  after  stuffing  myself 
to  a  degree  of  discomfort,  to  take  anything 
more  to  eat  or  drink,  he  would  politely 
advise  me :  "Well,  let  it  alone,  you  d— d 
Englishman."  And  for  all  this  comfort 
and  kindness  I  paid  five  dollars  a  week ! 
Such  a  mode  of  life  would  not  be  appreci- 
ated now,  perhaps,  but  there  was  a  great 
deal  of  plain,  simple  honesty  about  it,  and 
much  of  real  happiness,  I  am  sure ;  cer- 
tainly less  excitement,  for  so  many  people 
then  tried  to  live  within  their  means.  A 
person,  in  those  days,  possessed  of  one 
hundred  thousand  dollars  was  considered 
a  rich  man.  There  was  at  the  time  a 
native  dislike  for  show  and  ostentation. 
Every  official  was  dressed  like  his  fellow- 
citizen  in  plain  clothes,  and  such  a  thing 
as  a  liveried  coachman  or  footman  was 
84 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

never  seen.  I  do  not  pretend  to  say  that 
my  views  are  those  of  many  to-day. 

To  me  there  was  something  very  whole- 
some in  the  customs  of  old  New  York  in 
the  days  when  first  I  saw  it.  The  theatri- 
cal seasons  were  long,  lasting  about  ten 
months,  and  a  new  piece  was  seldom 
played.  The  company  was  kept  intact. 
The  old  comedies  and  standard  dramas 
were  always  played,  and  the  pieces  being 
familiar  to  all,  consequently,  the  life  of  an 
actor  then  was  an  easy  and  delightful  one. 
The  patrons  of  the  theater  comprised  the 
best  families  of  New  York,  and  the  prin- 
cipal members  were  great  favorites  and,  I 
think,  very  much  respected. 

In  those  days  Mr.  John  Lester— the 
Lester  Wallack  of  after  days— was  spoken 
of  as  the  handsomest  man  in  New  York, 
his  only  rival  being  Mr.  George  Jordan  of 
Burton's  Theater.  Burton  had  a  splendid 
company ;  he  was  a  host  in  himself,  and 
had  with  him,  besides  George  Jordan,  such 
actors  as  Charles  Fisher  and  Tom  Johnson. 
Harry  Placide  also  played  each  season,  for 
a  number  of  weeks,  at  Burton's  Theater. 
85 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

These  theaters,  with  the  Broadway,  Niblo's 
Garden,  Bowery,  and  Chatham,  Barnum's 
Museum  at  Broadway  and  Ann  Street,  and 
the  Chrysty  Minstrels  offered  the  only 
amusement  of  the  kind  then  in  New  York. 
When  Mr.  Chippindale  returned  to  the 
company  he  was  assigned  to  his  old  parts, 
and  consequently  I  did  not  get  much  fur- 
ther opportunity  at  that  time. 

The  Bateman  children  were  playing  at 
Niblo's  Garden,  and  Mr.  Wallack  asked 
me  if  I  would  like  to  act  with  them  for  a 
week  or  two.  I  was  very  glad  to  do  so, 
and  played  old  Pickle  in  "The  Spoiled 
Child/'  and  a  number  of  other  parts,  with 
them.  After  their  engagement  ended  I 
returned  to  my  old  position  at  Wallack's. 
Thereafter  the  parts  given  me  were  of  a 
minor  description ;  but  I  felt  that  most  of 
my  associates  knew  so  much  more  about 
acting  than  I  did  that  I  ought  to  be  satis- 
fied that  I  was  at  least  a  member  of  the 
Wallack  Company.  I  used  to  take  par- 
ticular pains  in  trying  to  do  my  utmost 
with  every  part  for  which  I  was  cast,  and 
had  made  up  my  mind  to  remain  in  New 
86 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYER 

York,  however  humble  my  position,  rather 
than  fill  a  more  exalted  one  outside  of  the 
city,  arguing  with  myself  that  if  I  had 
ability,  New  York  was  the  place  to  gain 
a  recognition  of  it.  After  all  these  years 
I  have  no  reason  to  regret  my  decision. 
I  began  to  achieve  a  reputation  for  my 
wigs,  and  the  way  I  used  to  blend  them— 
that  is,  join  them  to  my  forehead— when 
they  were  bald.  Mr.  Frank  Rae  of  the 
company  used  to  compliment  me,  saying 
he  never  saw  any  one  who  could  match  in 
a  wig  as  I  did.  I  remember  when  I  was 
playing  a  very  old  man,  a  small  part  (but 
upon  an  occasion  when  Mr.  Wallack  was 
to  be  in  his  box),  I  put  on  one  of  my  best 
wigs,  and  was  particularly  fortunate  in 
the  blending  of  it.  When  the  first  act 
was  over,  and  we  were  all  in  the  green- 
room, Mr.  Wallack  came  in  and  compli- 
mented most  of  the  people  on  their  work. 
To  me  he  said :  "Mr.  Stoddart,  that  is 
a  beautiful  wig  of  yours,  and  you  have 
matched  it  in  well ;  but  as  the  scene  is  an 
exterior  and  the  other  characters  all  had 
their  hats  on,  it  seems  rather  out  of  place 
87 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

for  you  to  carry  yours  in  your  hand.  Your 
next  scene,  I  think,  is  an  interior ;  the 
audience  will  then  have  ample  opportunity 
of  seeing  what  a  beautiful  wig  it  is."  These 
remarks,  having  been  addressed  to  me  be- 
fore all  the  company,  confused  me  some- 
what, and  I  put  my  hat  on,  at  which  Mr. 
Wallack  said  :  "Oh,  you  need  n't  put  it  on 
here,  old  boy  $  besides,  you  know,  there  are 
ladies  in  the  green-room."  I  was  sadly 
confused  by  these  remarks,  and  soon  re- 
moved myself  from  the  green-room. 

In  all  these  little  mishaps  and  troubles 
I  had  a  kind  and  sympathizing  friend, 
Miss  Phillips,  of  whom  I  have  previously 
spoken.  As  far  as  I  dared  I  began  to  be- 
come fond  of  her,  and  to  pay  her  all  the 
attention  I  could.  Her  position  in  the 
theater  was  considerably  in  advance  of  my 
own,  added  to  which  I  thought  her  very 
handsome,  and  I  knew  that  I  was  quite 
the  reverse.  We  were  about  of  an  age,  and 
there  the  resemblance  ended.  I  heard  she 
was  the  principal  support  of  her  mother 
and  brothers,  and  was  domestic,  a  trait 
peculiarly  to  my  liking.  Before  joining 
88 


Mary  Taylor. 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A  PLAYEE 

Wallack's  Theater  she  had  been  a  favorite 
at  Mitchell's  Olympic.  The  company  there 
was  for  a  long  time  a  noted  one  in  New 
York,  playing  the  lighter  order  of  enter- 
tainment, such  as  light  opera,  burlesque, 
etc.  I  have  met  many  old  people  in  New 
York  who  would  speak  in  the  most  glow- 
ing terms  of  Mitchell's  Olympic  and  his 
remarkable  company.  Mitchell  himself 
was  a  clever  comedian,  and  his  company 
included  Charles  Walcot,  George  Holland, 
Mr.  Conover,  Frank  Chanfrau,  Mary  Tay- 
lor ("our  Mary,"  as  she  was  called),  Miss 
Clark,  Mrs.  Isherwood,  Mary  Gannon, 
Matilda  Phillips,  and  Miss  Roberts. 

The  Olympic  Theater  had  ceased  to 
exist  before  Mr.  Wallack's  career  com- 
menced. Miss  Mary  Taylor  and  Miss 
Phillips  were  inseparable,  almost  like  sis- 
ters, so  I  heard  and  saw  a  great  deal  of  "our 
Mary."  What  a  favorite  she  was !  In 
fact,  she  was  the  main  attraction  of  the 
theater,  and  the  talk  of  New  York,  in 
"The  Daughter  of  the  Regiment,"  in  which 
she  played  with  Mr.  John  Nickinson,  an- 
other talented  member  of  the  company. 
89 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

This  was  one  of  her  principal  characters. 
She  possessed  a  fine  voice,  and  she  made 
many  songs  popular  in  those  days.  I  have 
no  doubt  there  are  many  now  living  who 
can.  remember  the  play  called  "A  Glance 
at  New  York,"  with  Chanfrau  and  Mary 
Taylor  as  Hose  and  Eliza.  I  believe  there 
is  not  one  member  of  that  company  alive 
to-day. 

Miss  Phillips  lived  far  from  Wallack's 
Theater,  and  Mr.  Chippindale,  who  was 
an  old  friend,  was  in  the  habit  of  escorting 
her  to  her  home  after  the  performance. 
I  thought,  therefore,  that  it  would  not  be 
injudicious  on  my  part  to  hang  on  to  Chip- 
pindale ;  so  we  would  get  out  of  the 
theater  a  little  in  advance,  have  a  glass  of 
ale  together,  and  hurry  back  that  he  might 
meet  the  lady.  After  a  time  I  got  to  be 
so  frequently  with  both  that  I  ventured  to 
remark  to  "Chip,"  as  he  was  familiarly 
called,  that  if  I  should  be  permitted  to 
walk  home  with  them,  we  might  have  an- 
other glass,  or  even  more  than  one,  after 
we  had  left  our  charge.  Now,  as  Chip  was 
fond  of  ale,  he  readily  met  my  suggestion. 
90 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

He  was  a  delightful  companion,  and  many 
times  we  turned  up  at  a  good  place  in 
Bleecker  Street,  kept  by  a  Mrs.  Rocket, 
and  after  a  glass  of  ale  there  we  would, 
night  after  night,  visit  a  certain  basement 
near  Broome  Street,  and  there  have  coffee 
and  cakes  for  twenty  cents,  Chip  footing 
the  bill  one  night  and  I  the  next.  I  shall 
always  remember  him  with  kindness  ;  he 
was  the  first  friend  I  had  in  New  York. 
I  fear  I  was  rather  ungrateful,  for  I  began 
to  plot  how  I  might  rid  myself  of  his  com- 
pany, terminate  our  joint  attentions  in 
seeing  Miss  Phillips  home,  and  convince 
the  lady  that  a  single  escort  was  all-suffi- 
cient, and  that  escort  myself.  So,  one 
evening,  "  sere  wing  my  courage  to  the 
sticking-point,"  I  approached  her  and 
asked  to  be  permitted  to  see  her  home. 
"Why,"  she  said,  "I  thought  you  had  been 
doing  so  for  some  time."  "Oh,  yes,"  I  re- 
plied ;  "but  please  don't  have  Chip."  She 
would  not  at  first  consent  to  his  dismissal, 
but  as  Mr.  Chippindale  was  a  married  man 
with  a  family,  and,  I  think,  began  to  see 
how  the  land  lay  with  me,  he  soon  after 
91 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYEK 

took  his  glass  by  himself,  and  left  me  in 
full  possession.  It  was  thus  that  I  became 
acquainted  with  a  dear  good  woman,  my 
partner  of  forty  years,  a  comfort  and  a 
blessing  through  all  my  life,  until  the  time 
of  great  sorrow  when  I  lost  her  (April  5, 
1892). 

An  interesting  member  of  Mr.  Wallack's 
company  at  that  time  was  Mr.  Eldward 
Sothern,  who  had  adopted  the  stage-name 
of  Douglas  Stuart.  He  played  the  prin- 
cipal business  after  Lester.  His  oppor- 
tunities not  being  all  that  he  could  desire, 
at  the  end  of  the  season,  there  being  then 
a  vacation  of  about  eight  weeks,  he  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  forming  a  company  of 
his  own.  With  this  in  view,  he  spoke  to 
me  and  a  few  others,  wishing  to  procure 
our  services.  As  I  was  reengaged  for  the 
next  season  at  Wallack's,  I  was  glad  to  fill, 
in  this  way,  the  time  before  my  reopening. 
We  visited  Canada,  opening  at  Bytown, 
now  called  Ottawa.  As  Sothern's  main 
object  in  making  the  venture  was  to  gain 
more  experience,  the  pieces  played  were 
principally  done  for  him,  and  even  then  I 
92 


George  Holland. 


KECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

considered  him  clever.  I  thought  Bytown 
a  pretty  place.  We  also  went  to  one  or 
two  minor  towns  in  Canada.  The  business 
was  tolerably  good  during  the  entire  eight 
weeks,  and  we  all  enjoyed  ourselves  greatly 
during  the  trip,  and  had  a  jolly  time. 

We  returned  to  New  York  for  the  sea- 
son of  1855,  during  which  many  changes 
in  the  company  took  place.  Mr.  Blake 
went  as  stage-director  to  the  Broadway 
Theater,  managed  by  Mr.  Marshall.  Mr. 
Blake  left  rather  suddenly,  some  time  after 
our  opening,  and  Mr.  Harry  Placide,  who 
was  living  in  retirement  at  Babylon,  Long 
Island,  was  sent  for  and  induced  to  play 
Mr.  Blake's  characters  for  the  rest  of  the 
season.  I  think  Placide  was  the  best  Sir 
Peter  Teazle  I  ever  saw,  and  he  was  inimi- 
table in  his  French  parts  in  "Parents  and 
Guardians,"  "The  First  Night,"  etc. 

Mr.  George  Holland,  Mrs.  Vernon,  Mary 
Gannon,  Mrs.  John  Hoey,  and  Georgina 
Hodgson  were  all  newcomers  during  my 
second  season.  Miss  Hodgson  made  her- 
self conspicuous  by  her  able  performance 
of  Pocahontas,  in  the  burlesque  of  that 
93 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

name  by  John  Brougham,  and  also  by 
leaving  the  city,  after  her  name  had  been 
announced,  without  apprising  the  manage- 
ment of  her  intention.  I  was  connected 
with  the  performance,  and  during  the  en- 
tire run  it  never  went  with  such  shouts  of 
laughter  as  upon  the  night  of  her  disap- 
pearance, when  it  was  played  by  Brougham 
and  "Walcot  without  Pocahontas. 

Edmund  Milton  Holland  at  that  time 
was  a  very  little  fellow,  and  went  on  in 
the  piece  as  a  "wee  Indian."  His  father, 
George  Holland,  made  him  up  for  the  part 
in  a  different  manner  at  every  perform- 
ance, tattooing  his  face  with  all  sorts  of 
devices,  much  to  the  amusement  of  the  en- 
tire company.  . 

At  the  end  of  my  second  season  Mr. 
Sothern  had  made  arrangements  to  play 
at  Halifax.  I  was  now  married,  and  both 
my  wife  and  I  were  members  of  his  com- 
pany. John  T.  Raymond  also  went  with 
us,  as  low  comedian.  Harry  Isherwood, 
Wallack's  scenic  painter,  a  great  friend 
of  Sothern's,  was  also  of  the  party. 
Isherwood  was  desirous  to  act  logo,  and 
94 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

so,  to  please  him,  Mr.  Sothern  put  up 
"Othello."  He  did  it  for  a  joke,  I  think, 
for  of  all  men  I  ever  knew  he  was  the  fond- 
est of  joking.  Sothern  played  the  Moor, 
and  was  imperfect  in  the  words ;  in  the 
last  scene  he  had  a  prompter  concealed 
under  Desdemonds  bed.  Isherwood's  lago 
was  truly  comic,— as  he  himself  presently 
knew,— for,  when  asked  to  repeat  it,  hav- 
ing received  a  letter  begging  him  to  do  so 
(written,  we  all  thought,  by  Sothern),  he 
could  not  be  persuaded  to  make  a  second 
venture. . 

The  English  officers  of  the  garrison  at 
Halifax  were  patrons  of  the  theater,  and 
Sothern  spent  much  time  with  them.  A 
performance  of  "The  Rivals"  was  given 
by  the  officers,  and  a  good  one,  and  I 
think  it  was  owing  to  military  interest 
that  the  season  turned  out  well.  After  it 
was  over  our  passages  were  arranged  for 
return  by  the  Eastern  State,  a  steamer 
plying  between  Boston  and  Halifax.  I 
dreaded  this  trip,  remembering  my  former 
experiences  on  the  water,  but  Mr.  Sothern 
told  me  that  if  I  would  keep  on  deck,  in 
95 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYEE 

the  open  air,  I  should  be  all  right.  So 
we  went  on  board  after  the  performance, 
and  were  to  sail  early  in  the  morning. 
Breakfast  was  announced,  all  of  the  com- 
pany being  ready  for  it,  and  no  time 
was  lost  in  seeking  the  saloon.  When 
I  reached  the  table  all  the  places  were 
occupied.  In  a  short  time  the  stewardess 
came  to  me,  saying  she  could  now  find  a 
seat  for  me.  The  Eastern  State  was  moving 
in  an  unsteady  and  unpleasant  manner,  so 
I  thanked  her,  told  her  she  need  not  trou- 
ble herself,  and  made  for  the  deck.  Eain 
was  pouring,  but,  remembering  Mr.  Soth- 
ern's  advice,  I  procured  an  umbrella  and 
a  camp-stool,  determined  to  fight  it  out 
on  deck.  I  only  succeeded  in  getting 
drenched  with  rain,  and  was  glad  to  re- 
turn to  my  state-room,  which  I  did  not 
again  leave  until  we  arrived  in  Boston. 

During  Miss  Laura  Keene's  career  with 
Mr.  Wallack  she  became  the  greatest 
favorite  of  his  company  and  the  chief  at- 
traction of  the  house.  I  think  she  was 
largely  indebted  to  Mr.  Wallack  for  her 
popularity.  She  must,  of  course,  always 
96 


John  T.  Raymond. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

have  been  talented,  but  it  was  her  manager 
who  developed  her  talent.  He  took  infi- 
nite pains  with  her  in  everything  she 
played,  selecting  pieces  that  he  thought 
best  suited  to  her  ability,  and  the  conse- 
quence was  that  her  name  became  essential 
to  every  performance  given.  She  would 
sit  in  front  with  Mr.  Wallack  at  rehearsal, 
and  he  would  consult  her  in  almost  every- 
thing. There  soon  came  a  time  when  there 
arose  a  very  serious  misunderstanding  be- 
tween them,  the  result  being  that  Miss 
Keene  withdrew  from  the  theater,  much 
to  its  detriment  both  in  an  artistic  and 
pecuniary  sense.  She  went,  I  believe,  to 
Baltimore.  That  Miss  Keene  acted  hastily, 
and  afterward  regretted  her  action,  there 
can  be  no  doubt,  for  a  number  of  the  best 
patrons  of  the  theater  sent  to  Mr.  Wallack 
a  petition  asking  for  her  reinstatement. 
He  was  inflexible,  and  she  never  played 
at  Wallack' s  again. 

Mrs.  Sarah  Conway  for  a  time  played 

most  of  the  leading  parts.     It  was  not 

long,  however,  before   Mrs.   John  Hoey 

came  to  the  theater.     She  was  the  wife  of 

7  97 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

the  late  John  Hoey,  once  president  of 
Adams  Express  Company,  and  the  first  to 
revolutionize  matters  regarding  stage  cos- 
tume. Her  dresses  were  in  good  taste, 
and  so  handsome  as  to  become  almost  the 
talk  of  the  city.  Mrs.  Stoddart  and  I 
were  reengaged  for  the  season  of  1856,  my 
position  in  the  theater  being  of  so  minor  a 
character  that  I  made  application  for  Mrs. 
Stoddart  only,  and  I  received  a  courteous 
letter  in  reply.  I  had  recently  been  mar- 
ried, and  Mr.  Wallack  said  he  could  not 
think  of  separating  me  from  my  wife,  so 
he  thought  I  had  better  remain.  It  does 
not  seem  so  easy  a  matter  now  for  man 
and  wife  to  remain  together  in  profes- 
sional life ;  in  fact,  it  seems  to  be  almost 
the  rule  that  they  must  go  their  separate 
ways,  joint  engagements  not  being  thought 
by  managers  to  be  desirable.  It  so  hap- 
pened, however,  that  neither  of  us  rejoined 
Mr.  Wallack. 

Late  in  1855  Miss  Laura  Keene  returned 

to  New  York  and  opened  the  Metropolitan, 

a  theater  in  Broadway  opposite  to  Bond 

Street,   which  she   rechristened   "Laura 

98 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

Keene's  Varieties.'7  That  theater,  which 
afterward  became  the  Winter  Garden, 
soon  passed  out  of  her  hands,  and  a  new 
one  was  built  for  her  in  Broadway,  be- 
tween Bleecker  and  Houston  streets.  Mr. 
Wallack  also  made  an  arrangement  with 
Mr.  William  Stuart,  by  which  the  latter 
was  to  occupy  the  Broome  Street  house 
during  this  season.  Miss  Keene  wrote  to 
us,  offering  a  joint  engagement  for  her  new 
house,  and  as  Mr.  Wallack  had,  in  conse- 
quence of  his  arrangement  with  Mr.  Stuart, 
in  a  measure  retired  from  active  manage- 
ment, we  felt  at  liberty  to  entertain  her 
proposal.  So,  after  communicating  with 
Mr.  Wallack,  who  was  willing  to  release 
us,  we  entered  on  an  engagement  with 
Miss  Keene.  Mr.  Trimble,  who  built  her 
theater,  should  have  had  it  ready  by 
September,  but  it  was  late  in  November 
before  the  house  was  completed,  and  so 
the  company  was  taken  to  Philadelphia 
and  Baltimore  in  the  meantime,  returning 
to  New  York  and  opening  at  the  new 
theater  on  November  18,  1856.  The  new 
house  was  beautiful.  The  opening  play 
99 


KECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYEK 

was  uAs  You  Like  It,"  and  Miss  Keene 
had  gathered  a  capable  working  company, 
George  Jordan  being  her  leading  man. 
The  reception  accorded  to  her  and  her 
associates  was  nattering.  The  dramatic 
critic  of  the  New  York  "Herald,"  Mr. 
Edward  G.  P.  Wilkins,  produced  a  comedy 
in  three  acts  at  this  theater  on  November 
24, 1856.  He  was  a  charming  companion  j 
he  frequently  came  behind  the  scenes, 
being  a  great  favorite  with  the  company. 
He  was  considered  the  most  able  dramatic 
writer  of  that  time.  His  new  comedy  was 
called  "Young  New  York,"  and  it  was  a 
success.  He  died  in  New  York  in  the 
spring  of  1861. 

At  the  conclusion  of  her  first  season, 
Miss  Keene's  venture  seemed  to  be  as  suc- 
cessful as  her  best  friends  could  have 
wished,  with  every  prospect  of  continued 
prosperity.  The  second  season  began  with 
an  introduction  to  New  York  theater-goers 
of  Mr.  Joseph  Jefferson,  who  appeared  as 
Doctor  Pangloss  in  "The  Heir-at-Law"  and 
as  Diggory  in  "  The  Specter  Bridegroom." 
This  was  the  first  time  I  had  the  pleasure 
100 


Joseph  Jefferson. 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

of  meeting  him,  although  I  had  heard 
much  of  him  from  my  wife,  who,  before 
her  marriage,  had  acted  with  him  in  Bos- 
ton. I  played  Steadfast  in  the  comedy  and 
Nicodemus  in  the  farce.  Perhaps  it  is  like 
"  carrying  coals  to  Newcastle  "  for  me  to 
record  that  Mr.  Jefferson  immediately 
captured  his  audience.  I  have  since,  on 
many  occasions,  had  the  pleasure  of  acting 
with  Mr.  Jefferson,  and  I  now  say,  with 
all  my  heart,  in  the  words  of  the  charac- 
ter which  he  has  made  famous,  "  May  he 
live  long  and  prosper."  Mr.  Jefferson's 
career,  I  think,  stands  apart  from  all 
others.  He  is  very  little  younger  than 
myself,  and  our  careers  are  somewhat 
similar ;  of  course,  I  mean  only  through 
long  servitude.  In  my  early  association 
with  him  we  were  both  stock  actors  with 
Miss  Laura  Keene,  and  I  had  every  op- 
portunity of  seeing  him  in  a  great  variety 
of  characters,  and  in  all  thought  him  pre- 
eminent. His  effects  were  Jeffersonian, 
and  you  were  left  very  little  in  doubt  of 
the  actor's  identity ;  but  his  renditions  were 
all  so  free  from  claptrap  and  so  thoroughly 
101 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

artistic  that  to  me,  whether  in  serious 
matter,  legitimate  comedy,  or  farce,  he 
was  always  delightful. 

I  have  frequently  heard  members  of  the 
profession  regret  that  Mr.  Jefferson  con- 
fined himself  to  two  or  three  parts,— in 
fact,  almost  to  one,— and  declare  that  he 
should  have  given  the  public  new  material. 
I  do  not  think  so.  In  my  opinion,  Mr. 
Jefferson  is  not  only  a  great  actor,  but  a 
good  business  man,  and  they  do  not  often 
go  together.  He  has  made  a  classic  of 
"Rip  Van  Winkle."  I  have  watched  his 
career  in  it  with  a  great  deal  of  interest. 
What  other  actor  has  ever  played  for  so 
many  years  so  profitably  one  part— with 
people  more  eager  to  see  him  in  his  ma- 
turity than  ever?  In  my  recent  wander- 
ings I  have  heard  expressed,  by  no  small 
number,  the  hope  that,  as  Mr.  Jefferson, 
like  myself,  is  no  longer  a  boy,  they  might 
see  him,  before  he  leaves  us,  in  "Rip." 
Posterity  will  ever  link  his  name  with  Rip 
Van  Winkle. 

In  my  younger  days,  while  acting  in 
England,  I  was  associated  with  one  of  the 
102 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

best  actors  I  think  I  have  ever  met,  a  Mr. 
Sydney  Davis.  He  played  everything, 
and  everything  he  played  was  good  /  and 
because  it  was  good  he  remained  all  his 
life  a  soldier  in  the  ranks.  Versatility,  I 
think,  was  the  cause.  Would  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son have  attained  his  present  position  by 
constantly  producing  new  material?  I 
think  not. 

Mrs.  Stoddart  was  not  with  Miss  Keene 
during  her  second  season,  but  had  ac- 
cepted an  engagement  with  Mr.  Duffield 
at  the  Mobile  (Alabama)  Theater.  Mr. 
Wallack,  who  had  retained  me  when  he 
did  not  particularly  require  my  services, 
but,  as  he  said,  in  order  not  to  separate 
me  from  my  wife,  had  his  revenge  for  our 
leaving  him,  since  matters  fell  out  so  ad- 
versely that  I  found  myself  alone  in  New 
York  and  my  wife  by  herself  in  the  South. 
In  consequence  of  the  financial  trouble  of 
1858,  business  at  the  theater  was  not  good, 
and  the  money  paid  to  us  was  of  such 
doubtful  value  that  I  felt  anything  but 
cheerful;  so  that  when  Mrs.  Stoddart 
wrote  that  an  actor  who  had  been  engaged 
103 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

to  play  the  second  old  men  in  Mr.  Duf- 
fi eld's  company  (Humphrey  Bland  was 
playing  the  first  old  men)  had  disap- 
pointed the  manager,  and  asked  if  I  would 
care  to  take  the  position,  I  immediately 
wrote  that  I  would  do  so.  As  salaries 
were  not  promptly  paid  at  Laura  Keene's 
theater  just  then,  I  knew,  or  suspected, 
that  if  I  told  Mr.  Lutz,  our  treasurer,  that 
I  was  about  to  leave,  my  chances  of  get- 
ting any  money  would  be  small ;  so  I  made 
known  my  plan  to  my  brother  George,  and 
said  that  I  intended  to  leave  on  a  Satur- 
day night.  I  forget  the  play  then  current, 
but  my  part  in  it  was  unimportant,  and  I 
knew  that  my  absence  would  not  distress 
the  management.  As  I  depended  on  my 
week's  salary  to  get  to  Montgomery, 
which  was  my  destination,  I  was  much 
disturbed  when  Mr.  Lutz  informed  me 
he  could  give  me  only  a  portion  of  it ; 
but  I  was  determined  to  make  the  start. 
My  brother  offered  to  break  to  Miss 
Keene  the  news  of  my  departure  after 
I  had  gone,  but  I  thought  this  would  be 
unpleasant  for  him,  and  so  I  addressed  a 
104 


Mrs.  J.  H.  Stoddavt. 


EECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

note  to  that  lady,  endeavoring  to  explain 
that  I  had  missed  Mrs.  Stoddart  much, 
that  a  position  had  been  offered  to  me  at 
the  Mobile  and  Montgomery  theaters, 
where  she  was  playing,  that  I  had  deter- 
mined to  join  her  there,  and  that  I  hoped 
Miss  Keene  would  forgive  me.  When  I 
rejoined  her,  years  afterward,  she  told  me 
that  she  did  not  think  the  manner  of  my 
leaving  her  had  been  either  considerate  or 
honorable,  but  as  I  had  been  married  only 
a  short  time,  and  was  naturally  desirous  to 
be  with  my  wife,  she  would  forget  and 
forgive  ;  and  she  added  that  if  my  married 
life  had  been  of  a  longer  duration,  perhaps 
I  should  not  have  made  so  precipitate  a 
departure.  We  were  afterward  with  her 
for  a  long  time,  and  she  treated  us  with 
great  kindness  and  consideration. 

Mr.  Duffield,  previous  to  opening  in 
Mobile,  had  a  two  weeks'  season  at  Mont- 
gomery, Alabama,  and  there  I  joined  the 
company.  The  journey  was  a  long  one  in 
those  days ;  I  was  nearly  a  week  on  the 
way.  I  am  not  sure  whether,  at  that  time, 
the  railroad  provided  sleeping  accommo- 
105 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYER 

dation,  but  I  am  sure  that,  if  there  were 
any  sleeping-cars,  I  was  not  in  a  way  to 
avail  myself  of  their  comforts.  My  earlier 
theatrical  experience  in  Scotland  had 
taught  me  not  to  stand  upon  trifles,  and 
I  knew  that  I  should  reach  Montgomery 
and  my  wife,  if  I  were  obliged  to  walk 
every  step  of  the  way.  In  fact,  a  little 
walking  would  have  been  a  comfort  at 
times  during  that  journey,  for  on  several 
occasions  I  found  myself,  at  night,  curled 
up  on  a  hard  seat  in  a  badly  ventilated 
car,  and  every  way  wretched. 

On  reaching  my  destination  I  found 
Mrs.  Stoddart  delighted  with  the  South. 
Humphrey  Bland  was  the  stage-manager, 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  George  Pauncefort  the 
leading  man  and  woman.  The  company 
was  a  good  one.  It  was  arranged  that  I 
should  begin  as  Max  Harkaway  in  "  London 
Assurance."  My  wife  brought  the  part  to 
me,  and  with  it  a  letter  telling  me  of  the 
death  of  my  mother— a  sufferer  for  years, 
without  hope  of  recovery,  from  the  dread- 
ful malady  of  cancer.  The  letter  told  me 
how  thankful  she  was  to  be  released,  and 
106 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

how,  at  the  end,  she  had  blessed  her  three 
sons  and  my  father,  who  had  stood  by  her 
bedside,  and  had  desired  her  blessing  to 
be  conveyed  to  her  "boys"  in  America; 
and  while  expressing  the  assurance  that 
she  knew  the  separation  would  be  but 
brief,  she  passed  away.  A  better  woman 
was  never  called  to  a  better  place.  Of 
course  I  had  expected  this  news,  and  when 
I  thought  of  her  years  of  misery,  I  ought 
to  have  felt  relieved  that  she  had  done 
with  it  all ;  but  I  could  not  feel  so— I  cried 
like  a  child ;  and  it  was  in  this  state  of 
mind  that  I  had  to  take  up  my  new  char- 
acter and  endeavor  to  learn  the  words  for 
the  following  night— a  breezy,  laughing, 
jolly  part  for  which  I  was  in  but  a  poor 
humor.  Many  actors  have  been  similarly 
placed,  and  upon  like  occasions  have  had 
to  take  up  a  laughing  part  with  a  sad  and 
heavy  heart. 

I  have  omitted  to  say  that  my  father's 
coming  to  America  so  late  in  life  proved 
to  be  a  mistake.  He  played  for  a  short 
time  in  New  York,  Boston,  and  Philadel- 
phia. He  had  acted  with  Miss  Agnes 
107 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

Robertson  before  she  became  the  wife  of 
Dion  Boucicault,  and  when  a  company 
was  made  up  by  Mr.  Boucicault  to  play 
in  New  Orleans,  my  father  was  engaged  in 
it.  At  the  end  of  the  New  Orleans  season 
he  and  my  mother  returned  to  Liverpool. 
I  never  saw  my  mother  again. 

At  the  end  of  two  successful  weeks  we 
left  Montgomery  for  Mobile,  our  manager, 
Mr.  Duffield,  being  with  us.  We  went  by 
boat,  upon  which  we  had  comfortable  quar- 
ters. Mr.  Duffield,  Mrs.  Stoddart,  and  I 
had  a  little  table  by  ourselves  in  the  din- 
ing-room, and  it  groaned  with  everything 
good.  I  ate  of  things  that  I  had  scarcely 
ever  heard  of  before.  I  recall  an  incident 
showing  the  cupidity  of  the  "darky  wait- 
er" of  the  day— his  desire  especially  to 
serve  those  who  were  liberal  in  tips.  Mr. 
Duffield,  before  ordering  the  dinner,  took 
from  his  pocket  a  bright  new  dollar,  care- 
fully placing  the  same  on  the  table,  in 
sight  of  our  waiter.  The  effect  was  magi- 
cal ;  the  waiter  could  not  do  enough  for 
us,  and  was  assiduous  in  loading  our  table 
with  the  best  the  boat  afforded.  After  we 
108 


Agnes  Robertson  (Mrs.  Boucicault). 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEK 

had  finished  our  dinner,  Mr.  Duffield,  in 
an  absent-minded  manner,  carelessly  took 
up  his  dollar  and  put  it  back  into  his 
pocket,  to  the  great  chagrin  of  the  ebony 
attendant. 

Ben  De  Bar,  who  managed  the  St. 
Charles  Theater  in  New  Orleans,  was  the 
ostensible  director  of  the  Mobile  house, 
Duffield  being  his  agent.  All  the  stars 
that  played  with  De  Bar  came  to  Mobile. 
We  had  Harry  Placide ;  Charlotte  Cush- 
man,  with  whom  I  had  acted  as  a  boy  at 
Alexander's  Theater  in  Glasgow,  and  who, 
although  I  had  not  seen  her  since,  was 
gracious  enough  to  remember  me  ;  and  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  James  W.  Wallack,  Jr.,  who 
were  stock  stars,  and  played  a  long  en- 
gagement in  "The  Man  in  the  Iron  Mask," 
"Winter's  Tale,"  "Cymbeline,"  "Ion,"  and 
many  other  legitimate  plays. 

It  was  three  years  before  the  war,  and 
the  South,  theatrically,  was  in  a  flourishing 
condition.  We  played  to  fashionable  and 
appreciative  audiences.  Mme.  La  Vert 
had  her  private  box  at  the  theater ;  she  it 
was  who  was  known  as  the  "Queen  of  the 
109 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A   PLAYER 

South,"  and  the  people  of  Mobile  would 
say  with  pride  that  she  was  the  only  South- 
ern lady  who,  while  in  England,  was  re- 
ceived by  Queen  Victoria.  Mme.  La  Vert 
gave  several  receptions,  during  our  season, 
to  the  principal  members  of  our  company 
and  the  society  people  of  Mobile.  The 
city,  at  that  time,  was  very  beautiful,  in- 
cluding a  lovely  driveway,  known  as  the 
Shell  Road,  on  which  many  of  our  people 
were  often  invited  to  drive.  Although 
the  season  was  midwinter,  flowers  bloomed 
and  all  was  summer-like.  It  being  my  first 
experience  in  the  South,  this  region  seemed 
to  me  an  enchanted  land.  Each  of  the 
principal  members  of  the  company  was 
the  recipient  of  a  benefit,  and  all  had 
"bumpers,"  Mme.  La  Vert  exerting  her- 
self to  make  each  a  social  success.  Our 
season  ended,  Mr.  Dufneld  spoke  to  us  re- 
garding a  reengagement  for  the  next 
season,  but  we  hoped  that  we  might  ar- 
range to  be  in  New  York.  We  went  by 
boat  to  New  Orleans,  remaining  a  few 
days  to  view  that  city.  One  of  the  finest 
and  fastest  steamboats  at  that  time  plying 
110 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEE 

between  St.  Louis  and  New  Orleans  was 
called  the  Pennsylvania,  and  we  were  for- 
tunate in  securing  a  passage  on  her.  It 
was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  seen  such  a 
floating  palace.  The  trip  to  St.  Louis 
occupied  a  week,  and  I  think  that  during 
that  time  we  saw  all  that  could  be  seen  of 
life  on  the  Mississippi.  The  service  on  the 
boats  of  this  line  was  excellent ;  the  table 
offered  all  the  delicacies  of  the  season ; 
there  was  music  and  constant  card-playing 
—in  fact,  every  species  of  gambling.  It 
was  our  good  fortune,  also,  to  witness  and 
participate  in  a  Mississippi  Eiver  steam- 
boat race— a  thing  of  which  we  had  read, 
but  which  we  had  never  seen.  No  sooner 
had  we  overhauled  another  steamer  simi- 
lar to  our  own  than  we  went  at  it,  screech- 
ing and  roaring,  the  crew  and  passengers, 
even  the  ladies,  dismissing  all  thought  of 
danger,  and  only  anxious  to  keep  our  boat 
going  and  to  beat  her  rival.  With  this  in 
view,  everything  in  the  way  of  fuel  that 
could  possibly  increase  her  speed  was 
thrown  into  the  furnaces— wood,  fat,  tar, 
anything  that  could  be  reached.  It  was 
111 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

a  sight  to  see  the  negroes,  stripped  to  the 
waist,  with  the  glare  of  the  fires  on  their 
faces,  and  to  hear  the  yells  and  shouts  from 
the  boats,  as  either  seemed  to  gain  a  slight 
advantage.  For  some  distance  the  steam- 
ers were  so  close  that  an  agile  person  might 
have  stepped  from  one  to  the  other.  At 
last  the  Pennsylvania  forged  ahead,  and 
even  now  I  can  hear  the  cheers  of  our 
people  as  we  left  our  antagonist  far  be- 
hind. Not  long  after  this  I  learned  that 
the  Pennsylvania  had  been  blown  up  in  a 
similar  race. 

This  was  our  first  and  only  protracted 
stay  in  the  extreme  South.  I  had  no  op- 
portunity of  witnessing  the  evils  of  slavery, 
but  I  did  see  much  domestic  comfort  among 
the  colored  people,  and  much  content  and 
apparent  happiness.  I  had  not,  at  that 
time,  been  long  from  the  old  country,  and, 
in  common  with  most  others,  had  de- 
voured Mrs.  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe's 
"Uncle  Tom's  Cabin"  ;  and,  although  my 
experience  was  limited,  I  was  glad  to  find 
many  negroes  whose  position  and  sur- 
roundings were  more  comfortable  and 
112 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

happy  than  I  had  supposed  them  to  be. 
In  many  instances  that  came  within  my 
observation,  slaves  were  treated  with  great 
consideration  by  their  masters.  In  fact, 
one  Sunday  in  Mobile  Mrs.  Stoddart  and 
I  were  surprised  at  seeing  two  stylish 
equipages  driven  by  colored  boys,  and 
with  them  their  "girls."  They  were  all 
"dressed  to  kill,"  and  upon  inquiry  I  was 
told  that  the  "boss"  often  allowed  his 
"boy  "  the  use  of  his  carriage  to  take  a  spin 
with  his  sweetheart  on  the  Shell  Road.  I 
recall  that  the  colored  servants  at  the 
house  where  we  lived  were  frequently  in- 
vited to  go  to  the  theater,  and  they  were 
never  denied  the  privilege  by  their  em- 
ployers. 

The  trip  from  New  Orleans  to  St.  Louis 
before  the  war  is  a  portion  of  my  Amer- 
ican experience  never  to  be  forgotten. 

On  our  arrival  in  St.  Louis  we  found 
Mrs.  Henry  Farren  (now  Mrs.  Erving 
Winslow),  formerly  Miss  Kate  Reignolds, 
an  old  friend  of  my  wife's,  managing  one 
theater,  and  Ben  De  Bar  the  other.  We 
went  to  see  both,  and,  after  spending  a 

s  113 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

short  time  with  the  Farrens,  left  for  Chi- 
cago. Mr.  and  Mrs.  Florence  were  then 
playing  in  the  latter  city,  and  we  saw 
their  performance.  We  then  set  out  for 
New  York,  where,  on  our  arrival,  we 
found  everything  verdant  and  summer- 
like,  and  having  left  a  similar  state  of 
things  in  the  South,  it  seemed  to  us  strange 
to  have  escaped  the  winter.  Although 
we  were  glad  to  be  at  home  again,  there 
seemed  little  chance  of  remaining,  so  we 
accepted  engagements,  for  the  next  season, 
with  Mr.  John  T.  Ford  at  Baltimore,  and, 
in  the  meantime,  went  to  Montreal  for  the 
summer.  Mr.  Buckland,  who  had  man- 
aged the  Montreal  Theater  for  many  years, 
was  accustomed  to  begin  his  seasons  at 
the  close  of  the  theatrical  season  in  New 
York.  He  was,  therefore,  always  able  to 
engage  prominent  people.  Charles  Fisher 
filled  most  of  his  vacations  in  this  way. 
All  the  stars  played  in  Montreal.  Mrs. 
Buckland,  formerly  Kate  Horn,  played 
most  of  the  leading  business,  while  Miss 
Kate  Reignolds,  D.  H.  Harkins,  W.  J. 
Le  Moyne,  Charles  Hale,  George  W.  Stod- 
114 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF  A  PLAYER 

dart,  B.  T.  Ringgold,  and  many  other 
well-known  performers  were  members  of 
the  company.  Charles  Mathews  was  popu- 
lar, and  often  acted  there,  as  did  also 
Charles  Dillon.  English  actors  were  the 
favorites.  There  was  a  change  of  bill 
every  night,  and  so  the  work  was  heavy. 
Mr.  Mathews  had  a  charming  personality 
—all  the  company  liked  him  ;  but  the  work 
with  him  was  more  arduous  than  with  any 
one  else,  as  he  generally  put  on  three 
pieces  a  night.  Yet  the  Montreal  season 
was  thought  to  be  most  desirable,  enabling 
those  who  had  saved  money  during  the 
winter  to  hold  on  to  their  savings,  and 
those  who  had  not  to— well,  to  live. 
Montreal  is  a  pleasant  city.  The  audi- 
ences, in  those  days,  were  responsive  and 
the  people  were  friendly.  Mr.  Buckland 
always  claimed  that  the  weather  there 
was  delightfully  cool  throughout  the  sum- 
mer months,  but  as,  when  playing  long 
parts,  the  actor  would  usually  be  most 
uncomfortable,  I  doubted  the  veracity  of 
this  statement.  My  brother  George  played 
walking  gentlemen  and  juvenile  business 
115 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYER 

with  Buckland  the  season  before  I  went 
there,  and,  when  I  turned  up  at  the 
theater,  they  told  me  they  were  glad  to 
see  me,  if  only  for  "my  son's  sake."  This 
mistake  was  made  because  they  took  me 
for  the  father  of  my  brother,  perhaps  be- 
cause he  was  playing  juvenile  parts  and  I 
was  playing  old  men.  I  thought  it  pru- 
dent not  to  undeceive  them ;  besides,  as 
from  my  boyhood  I  had  been  accustomed  to 
being  called  "Old  Stoddart,"  I  had  become 
reconciled  to  my  supposed  antiquity. 
Buckland's  season  having  ended,  we  re- 
turned to  New  York,  and  from  there  went 
to  Baltimore  to  enter  on  our  engagement 
with  John  T.  Ford.  Edwin  Booth  was 
the  first  attraction.  This  was  the  first 
time  I  had  ever  met  him,  but  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  acting  with  him  afterward  at 
the  Winter  Garden  in  New  York.  He 
played  a  long  time  in  Baltimore  that 
season,  and  I  acted  with  him  in  all  his 
plays.  For  a  person  so  eminent  and  so 
greatly  admired,  he  was  the  most  gentle, 
unassuming,  unostentatious  man  I  had 
ever  met.  I  had  not  been  much  in  tragedy 
since  my  younger  days  with  Copeland  in 
116 


Edwin  Booth. 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A  PLAYEE 

Liverpool  and  Alexander  in  Glasgow.  So 
when  I  was  obliged  to  tackle  Polonius,  Bra- 
bantio,  Gloster,  in  "King  Lear,"  etc.,  I 
found  the  study  difficult.  During  this 
season  I  participated  in  an  exceedingly  in- 
teresting performance  of  "Richard  III," 
with  Edwin  Booth  as  Richard,  and  his 
younger  brother,  John  Wilkes  Booth,  as 
Richmond.  Both  performances  were  su- 
perb. I  shall  never  forget  the  fight  be- 
tween Richard  and  Richmond  in  the  last 
act,  an  encounter  which  was  terrible  in  its 
savage  realism. 

"The  Tempest"  was  produced  during 
this  season,  and  had  quite  a  long  run, 
Mr.  William  Davidge  being  specially  en- 
gaged for  Caliban.  Mr.  Burton  played  an 
engagement,  and  we  had  professionals 
with  fame :  John  E.  Owens,  John  Sleeper 
Clarke,  and  William  Wheatley— the  lat- 
ter from  the  Arch  Street  Theater,  Phil- 
adelphia. Mr.  Ford  often  sent  us,  to 
support  the  above  actors,  to  Washington 
and  Alexandria,  one  night  in  one  place 
and  the  next  in  the  other,  according  to 
our  relative  positions  in  the  various  pieces. 

Our  season  was  nearly  over  when  Mr. 
117 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

Dion  Boucicault  and  his  wife,  Agnes 
Robertson,  came.  I  was  cast  for  impor- 
tant parts  in  all  their  plays,  and,  I  suppose, 
must  have  acquitted  myself  satisfactorily, 
as  Mr.  Boucicault  spoke  to  me  toward  the 
end  of  his  engagement,  telling  me  of  his 
intention  to  build  a  theater  in  New  York, 
and  offering  to  engage  Mrs.  Stoddart  and 
me  in  his  company.  He  said  that  his 
theater  would  be  ready  in  the  following 
autumn,  and  I  told  him  we  should  be 
pleased  to  accept  his  offer,  provided  there 
was  a  certainty  that  the  theater  would  be 
completed  by  the  time  specified.  Mr. 
Ford  was  desirous  that  we  should  return 
to  his  house,  and  I  did  not  wish  to  decline 
a  renewal  of  the  Baltimore  engagement 
until  I  saw  my  way  clear  for  the  future. 
On  Boucicault's  assurance  that  his  theater 
would  open  as  soon  as  Mr.  Ford's,  I  closed 
the  engagement  with  him.  Although 
we  were  comfortable  in  Baltimore,  Balti- 
more was  not  New  York.  Moreover,  we 
had  been  absent  from  the  latter  city  for 
two  years ;  our  home  was  there,  and  we  had 
been  counting  the  days  till  we  should  re- 
118 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYEE 

turn  to  it.  Mrs.  Boucicault,  who  had  acted 
so  much  with  my  father,  was  kind  to  me 
during  these  days.  On  one  occasion  she 
said  to  me,  in  the  hearing  of  Mr.  Bouci- 
cault :  "Mr.  Stoddart  is  very  good  in  this 
part,  and  he  puts  me  in  mind  of  his  father." 
I  thought  it  a  great  compliment.  I  had 
seen  my  father  when  he  was  acting  with 
her  in  some  of  these  pieces,  and  had  ad- 
mired his  acting,  not  altogether,  I  hope, 
from  the  fact  that  he  was  my  parent.  Mr. 
Boucicault  caused  me  to  feel  a  little  less 
cheerful  by  remarking  that,  in  his  opinion, 
my  principal  fault  lay  in  the  fact  that  I 
was  "always  the  same"  in  everything  I 
did.  "Stoddart,"  said  he,  "is  always  Stod- 
dart." He  then  said  that  an  artist— a 
true  artist— should  sink  his  personality, 
ever  leaving  the  audience  in  doubt  as  to 
his  identity.  There  was  some  truth,  I 
suppose,  in  his  remarks  regarding  "Stod- 
dart always  being  Stoddart "  ;  but  having 
been  a  stock  actor  all  my  life,  and  having, 
as  a  stock  actor,  of  necessity  played  many 
different  kinds  of  r61es,  it  was  not  very 
gratifying  to  be  told  that  I  turned  up  the 
119 


KECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYEE 

same  old  six  and  eightpence  on  every  oc- 
casion. I  took  this  criticism  to  heart,  and 
tried  hard  to  metamorphose  myself  some- 
what in  accordance  with  it. 

That  my  efforts  at  change,  at  least  in  my 
personal  appearance,  were  not  altogether 
successful,  the  following  incident  may 
serve  to  illustrate.  At  the  old  Union 
Square  Theater,  during  the  run  of  "Fer- 
reol,"  in  which  I  played  Martial,  a  game- 
keeper who  has  committed  a  murder,  there 
is  a  fine  trial  scene,  in  which  another  person 
is  accused  of  the  crime.  The  gamekeeper, 
during  this  scene,  is  seated  down  the  stage. 
He  has  not  many  words  to  say,  but  can,  by 
facial  expression,  convey  much  to  the  au- 
dience. On  the  first  night  I  put  on  a 
heavy  beard.  After  the  performance 
Miss  Ida  Vernon,  who  had  seen  the  piece 
from  the  front,  said  to  me  :  "Oh,  Mr.  Stod- 
dart,  what  did  you  wear  that  abominable 
beard  for  ?  It  took  away  all  your  expres- 
sion." The  next  night  the  gamekeeper 
had  been  shaved. 

Again,  when  we  played  "Alabama"  at 
the  Madison  Square  Theater,  I  was  Colonel 
120 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

Preston.  I  remember  discussing  the  mat- 
ter with  my  wife  and  children  one  even- 
ing before  the  opening.  "How  do  you 
think  you  will  be  in  your  Southern  dia- 
lect? "  said  one.  "Well,  I  don't  know,"  I 
replied.  "You  know  I  have  been  in  Mo- 
bile?" "Well,"  said  my  son,  "you  can 
alter  your  face  a  little  this  time,  anyway. 
As  this  character  is  a  colonel  and  a  South- 
erner, why  not  appear  for  once  in  a  mus- 
tache?" And  so  I  was  persuaded  to  wear 
one,  thinking  that  it  would  alter  me  and 
be  much  in  character.  I  made  Preston  a 
very  old  man,  wearing  a  bald  white  wig 
and  a  heavy  white  mustache.  Before  the 
production  I  dressed  at  home,  as  was  my 
custom,  and  presented  myself  in  costume 
to  my  family.  "By  Jove  ! "  said  my  son, 
"I  should  n't  know  you."  I  believed  him, 
for  I  scarcely  knew  myself.  Upon  the  open- 
ing night,  and  before  the  curtain  went  up, 
I  had  adjusted  my  wig  and  mustache,  when 
Mr.  Augustus  Thomas,  the  author  of  the 
play,  came  into  my  room.  "Ah,  governor," 
he  was  just  beginning,  when  he  noticed  my 
make-up.  "Good  Lord  ! "  said  he,  "what 
121 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

have  you  got  on  your  face?  "  I  ventured 
to  explain  that  my  family  were  of  the 
opinion,  which  had  also  lately  become  my 
own,  that  in  every  part  I  undertook  I 
always  looked  the  same,  and  that  "Ala- 
bama "  presenting  a  favorable  opportunity 
to  alter  my  face  a  little,  I  thought  it  ad- 
visable to  wear  the  mustache.  Mr.  Thomas 
would  have  none  of  it,  and  insisted  that  I 
should  take  it  off,  saying :  "God  bless  you  ! 
the  people  want  to  see  you  just  as  you 
are."  So  off  it  came. 

I  have  often  seen  one  or  the  other  of  my 
associates  thoroughly  disguised  in  acting, 
so  that  recognition  was  difficult.  I  am 
afraid,  though,  I  should  have  to  change 
myself  to  a  great  extent  before  I  could 
conceal  my  identity.  It  has  been  my  good 
fortune  to  meet  most  of  the  really  great 
men  and  women  of  my  profession,  and  I 
recall  that  many  of  them  had  unmistak- 
able "mannerisms"  and  marked  person- 
alities; some  of  them  were  wonderfully 
talented,  but  no  one  of  them  ever  left  the 
observer  for  a  moment  in  doubt  as  to  in- 
dividuality. So  I  have  tried  not  to  worry 
122 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

over  the  fact  that  I  am  so  much  like 
myself. 

The  Baltimore  season  closed  and  we 
returned  to  New  York.  The  new  theater 
for  Mr.  Boucicault,  if  it  had  been  built, 
would  have  stood  near  the  spot  where  now 
stands  Keith's  Theater,  formerly  the  Union 
Square.  I  saw  Mr.  Boucicault,  shortly 
after  we  arrived,  standing  on  the  ground, 
and  he  called  my  attention  to  what  he 
termed  the  great  desirability  of  the  loca- 
tion. The  theater  was  not  built,  but  in- 
stead of  a  new  theater  he  reconstructed 
an  old  one,— the  Metropolitan,— which  he 
called  the  Winter  Garden.  The  interior 
of  this  house  was  made  much  smaller  and 
was  wonderfully  improved.  The  company 
was  a  fine  one,  including  Joseph* Jefferson, 
Tom  Johnson,  Harry  Pearson,  Dion  Bou- 
cicault,  Mrs.  John  Wood,  Agnes  Robertson, 
Sara  Stevens,  and  others.  The  theater 
opened  with  "Dot,"  followed  by  "Smike," 
—a  dramatization  of  Charles  Dickens's 
story  of  "Nicholas  Nickleby,"—  and  then 
came  the  "Octoroon."  Matters  did  not 
progress  altogether  smoothly.  Mrs.  John 
123 


KECOLLECTIONS    OF  A  PLAYEK 

Wood  had  a  misunderstanding  and  with- 
drew ;  then  Mr.  Boucicault  had  trouble, 
and  he  and  Miss  Robertson  retired  to  join 
Laura  Keene.  Mr.  Jefferson  then  took 
hold,  directing  the  affairs  of  the  theater 
for  some  time.  This  theater  (the  Winter 
Garden)  was  managed,  at  various  times, 
while  I  continued  a  member  of  the  com- 
pany, by  Mr.  William  Stuart  and  Mr. 
" Black"  Jackson.  I  remained  at  the 
Winter  Garden  for  about  two  years,  acting 
with  Edwin  Booth,  Charlotte  Cushman, 
Barney  Williams,  Edward  A.  Sothern, 
Frank  Chanfrau,  and  others. 

During  this  time  we  had  saved  a  few 
hundred  dollars,  and,  Scotchman-like,  I 
had  made  up  my  mind,  as  soon  as  circum- 
stances would  permit,  to  try  and  buy  a 
home  for  ourselves.  Miss  Julia  Gould,  a 
professional  friend  of  my  wife's,  had  bought 
land  at  Macomb's  Dam,  near  High  Bridge, 
which  at  that  time  was  far  out  of  town. 
Here  she  had  intended  to  build,  but  cir- 
cumstances had  prevented  her  doing  so, 
and  we  bought  the  property.  I  went  to 
look  at  it,  and  was  delighted  with  the  loca- 
124 


Frank  Chanfrau. 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

tion.  I  think  I  went  to  view  it  every  day 
for  several  months,  gloating  over  our  new 
purchase,  the  site  of  our  prospective  home. 
There  was  an  old  woman  living  in  a 
shanty  on  a  lot  next  to  ours  who  was  most 
anxious  to  sell. 

After  my  mother's  death  my  father  had 
again  come  to  America,  and  was  living 
with  us  in  Hudson  Street  at  the  corner  of 
Leroy.  Many  and  many  a  time  have  we 
walked  together  to  the  High  Bridge  prop- 
erty, admired  it,  and  then  walked  back. 
My  father,  in  his  sanguine  way,  would  say  : 
"Jim,  if  you  can  only  raise  enough  money 
to  secure  that  old  woman's  lot,  you  will 
have  an  ideal  home,  and  I  don't  see  why 
you  cannot  act  and  live  in  it  all  the  year 
round.  The  Eighth  Avenue  cars  will  take 
you  a  long  way  out,  and  then  the  walk  for 
the  rest  of  the  way  is  trifling.  I  have  n't 
forgotten  my  trade,  my  boy  [father,  it 
will  be  remembered,  had  been  apprenticed 
to  a  carpenter] ,  and  I  '11  assist  in  building 
your  house."  I  had  agreed  with  the  old 
woman  on  a  price  for  her  property,  my 
father  had  prepared  a  plan  for  a  house, 
125 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

and  we  were  very  enthusiastic  and  con- 
fident. In  a  most  cheerful  frame  of  mind, 
away  we  went  to  select  a  site  for  the  house. 

My  father  had  just  finished  pacing  off 
the  number  of  feet  when  there  appeared 
upon  the  scene  an  uncouth  young  person, 
who  said  to  my  father :  "Look  here,  old 
man,  what  are  you  doing?"  My  father 
said :  "Jim,  you  had  better  talk  to  him.'7 
I  endeavored  to  explain  that  it  was  our 
intention  to  build  a  small  house,  but  he 
interrupted  me  with :  "Yes,  I  have  been 
watching  you  both  bobbing  around  here 
for  some  time  and  trying  to  get  my  mother 
to  sell  you  her  lot  ;  but  that  lot  ain't  hers, 
it 's  mine,  and  it  ain't  for  sale.  You  will 
have  a  high  old  time  if  you  try  to  put  up 
any  house  near  me.  And  if  I  find  you  and 
that  old  scalawag"— indicating  my  father 
—"coming  around  my  mother,  trying  to 
get  that  lot  away  from  me,  I  '11  put  a 
bullet  into  the  pair  of  you." 

I  do  not  remember  our  reply  to  this 

polite  young  gentleman,  but  I  do  recall 

that  we  lost  little  time  in  leaving  High 

Bridge  and   its   beautiful   surroundings. 

126 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

My  father,  when  we  had  reached  Eighth 
Avenue,  said,  his  views  regarding  the 
desirability  of  High  Bridge  as  a  residential 
district  in  the  meantime  having  completely 
changed :  "  Jim,  I  don't  think  it  will  do  ; 
that  fellow  means  what  he  says.  Besides, 
it  is  really  a  long  way  out.  I  don't  see  how 
you  could  possibly  act  and  live  so  far  from 
the  theater."  How  characteristic  of  the 
man  !  Some  years  after  I  sold  the  lots  to 
Mr.  Charles  Hale,  in  those  days  a  well- 
known  actor. 

I  had,  however,  no  intention  of  giving 
up  the  idea  of  acquiring  a  home.  It  so 
happened  that  one  morning  soon  after- 
ward we  read  in  the  "Herald"  an  at- 
tractive advertisement  from  which  it 
appeared  that  a  Mr.  William  Elton  had 
purchased  a  portion  of  the  estate  of  Gou- 
verneur  Morris,  of  the  well-known  New 
York  family  of  that  name.  This  he  had 
laid  out  into  lots,  which  he  proposed  sell- 
ing "on  the  instalment  plan."  He  called 
his  property  "Wilton,"  and  it  comprised 
about  five  or  six  acres  of  land  situated 
between  One  Hundred  and  Thirty-sixth 
127 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

and  One  Hundred  and  Thirty-eighth 
streets,  and  bounded  on  the  east  by  what 
is  now  the  Boulevard  and  on  the  west  by 
St.  Ann's  Avenue,  then  known  as  Cherry 
Lane.  Through  it,  at  that  time,  also 
flowed  a  pretty  little  stream,  which  has 
now  become  Brook  Avenue. 

Mrs.  Stoddart  and  I  went  out  to  see  Mr. 
Elton.  He  at  once  recognized  my  wife. 
He  was  associated  with  Mr.  Strong,  a  pub- 
lisher doing  business  in  Nassau  Street, 
and  had  been  one  of  the  constant  patrons 
of  Mitchell's  Olympic  Theater  in  the  old 
days,  and  therefore  he  remembered  my 
wife  and  all  the  Olympic  favorites. 

I  thought  myself  in  luck,  he  met  us  so 
pleasantly.  I  made  known  to  him  my 
plan,  and  was  advised  to  take  six  lots  in 
One  Hundred  and  Thirty-eighth  Street. 
He  would  let  me  have  them,  he  said,  on 
the  crest  of  the  hill  overlooking  Port 
Morris,  the  cream  of  the  property.  Mr. 
Elton  walked  with  us  to  show  the  lots.  I 
do  not  think  I  had  ever  seen  a  more  beau- 
tiful site.  The  time  was  spring  ;  the  roads 
and  lanes  were  lined  with  cherry-trees,  all 
128 


OLYMPIC  EXTRA, 

ARRIVAL   OF   THE   KINGS   OF    EUROPE. 


MONDAY,  JUAy  15th,  1848. 


FOREIGN  INTELLIGENCE. 


MITCHELL'S 

L: 

•2m.< 


SCIENTIFIC  INTELLIGENCE 


j'clock,  *oit)i»  I'.ifeiu  nae  at  half-put  7. 


STEAMBOAT  ESSEX. 


Monday   Ev'ng,  Miy  1  5,  1  848. 

LAVATER 

THE  PHYSIOGNOMIST. 


.  REUOX.-T*  !.«>.«  rf  N...r«k.  go  ui»  ... 


Pas  do  Danube Mi«  P«rlm^lnn     |    .-.-,.1 ,,-,-.  w  , 


Olympic  Extra! 

.Irrital  of  lilt  Kingl  of  Europt  !  ! 


i^iS 


HUNTING  A  TURTLE  !        ^^ 

' 


by  ......  Mi»  Parlington 


ove  «V  Murder!! 


rirSri^'irwji57^.*L'rt-  .**  r- 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

in  bloom.  Gouverneur  Morris's  mansion 
stood  on  the  right  and  Mr.  Crane's  villa 
on  the  left,  with  the  little  St.  Ann's 
Church  near  by.  The  Brother  Islands 
showed  in  full  view  in  the  Sound.  It  was 
all  very  beautiful,  and  a  sight  long  to  be 
remembered.  It  was  from  here  that  we 
saw  the  Great  Eastern  when  she  came  to 
America  after  her  first  trip. 

We  lost  no  time  in  buying  the  property. 
I  think  we  were  to  pay  two  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars  per  lot.  As  we  had  only  one 
hundred  dollars,  Mr.  Elton  kindly  agreed 
to  accept  that  amount,  and  to  receive  the 
rest  in  instalments,  giving  us  a  little  book 
in  which  he  would  credit  the  sums  we 
should  pay  as  the  payments  were  made. 
This  was  in  the  spring  of  1859.  We  went 
home  rejoicing,  and  week  after  week  I 
journeyed  out  to  Wilton  and  gave  Mr. 
Elton  as  much  money  on  account  as  I 
could  spare.  My  wife  had  a  friend  who 
had  advised  us  to  build,  and  he  offered  to 
meet  the  payments  necessary  for  that  pur- 
pose as  they  fell  due,  taking  a  mortgage 
on  the  property  as  security.  I  availed 
9  129 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEE 

myself  of  his  kind  offer,  and  made  my  con- 
tracts for  building.  I  was  to  pay  two 
thousand  dollars  for  the  work.  I  also 
made  a  contract  to  dig  a  well,  at  seventy- 
five  cents  a  foot  for  excavating  dirt  and 
five  dollars  a  foot  if  excavation  should 
have  to  be  made  through  rock.  When  the 
house  was  under  way  and  the  first  pay- 
ment due,  my  wife's  friend  wrote  to  say 
that  circumstances  would  make  it  impos- 
sible for  him  to  advance  the  money  as 
agreed,  and  at  the  same  time  word  was 
sent  to  us  that  after  digging  out  a  few  feet 
of  earth  the  contractor  had  encountered 
rock  in  the  well.  Here  was  disappoint- 
ment. I  thought  my  second  attempt  to 
secure  a  home  was  not  only  a  failure,  but 
also  that  I  should  find  myself  deeply  in 
debt.  But  "  it  's  a  long  lane  that  has  no 
turning,"  and  honesty  of  purpose  usually 
comes  out  all  right  in  the  end. 

On  explaining  our  position  to  Mr.  Elton, 
he  told  us  to  go  ahead  with  our  house  and 
that  he  would  foot  the  bills.  He  did  so, 
and  thus,  in  the  spring  of  1860,  we  were 
enabled  to  move  into  our  new  home. 
130 


KECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYEK 

I  was  happy  in  being  able  in  a  small 
way  to  repay  Mr.  Elton  for  his  kindness, 
for  I  was  instrumental  in  bringing  others 
of  my  profession  to  Wilton.  Milnes  Le- 
vick  bought  property  and  built  there,  as 
did  also  Edwin  Eddy,  Mark  Smith,  Henry 
F.  Daly,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  France,  and  others. 
I  being  the  pioneer,  Mr.  Elton  gave  me 
the  credit  of  bringing  them  all  to  his 
property.  We  lived  in  Wilton  for  seven 
years,  part  of  my  Winter  Garden  career, 
and  a  great  part  of  the  time  while  I  was 
with  Laura  Keene  and  Mrs.  John  Wood. 

The  journey  from  the  theater  to  my 
home  was  long  and  in  those  days  tedious. 
It  took  an  hour  and  a  half  to  reach  Wil- 
ton by  way  of  the  Third  Avenue  street- 
cars from  Bleecker  Street  to  Harlem 
Bridge,  which  was,  of  itself,  in  the  old 
horse-cars,  quite  a  journey,  added  to  which 
was  the  discomfort  of  frequently  having 
to  stand  up  all  the  way.  On  reaching  the 
bridge,  the  worst  of  our  journey  was  yet 
to  come,  for,  there  being  then  no  means  of 
conveyance  on  the  other  side  of  the  river, 
we  had  a  walk  of  about  a  mile  and  a  half 
131 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER, 

before  reaching  our  house.  I  thought  very 
little  of  it  at  that  time,  but  now,  as  I  look 
back  upon  those  days,  I  wonder  how  we 
ever  accomplished  the  task.  We  had  to 
face  this  journey  in  all  sorts  of  weather. 
Mrs.  Stoddart,  for  a  time,  also  was  obliged 
to  endure  a  like  hardship  ;  but  as  my  posi- 
tion improved,  we  decided  that  it  was 
better  she  should  leave  the  stage,  and  so 
thereafter  I  trudged  up  the  road  alone. 
In  all  weathers,  by  moonlight,  in  dark- 
ness, in  rain  and  snow,  for  seven  years,  I 
nightly  pursued  my  pilgrimage  from  the 
theater  down-town  and  up  this  roadway. 
I  was  resolved  that  nothing  should  stand 
in  the  way  of  accomplishing  my  purpose 
of  having  a  home  of  my  own,  and  not  be- 
ing able  to  afford  it  in  the  city,  this  was 
the  best  thing  I  could  do. 

During  this  time  I  encountered  two 
very  disagreeable  experiences.  One  was 
in  the  month  of  March,  1862.  I  was  with 
Laura  Keene,  and  on  one  night  there  was 
a  tremendous  snow-storm.  After  the  per- 
formance, the  storm  had  become  so  fierce 
and  the  snow  so  deep  that  no  cars  ran 
132 


Laura  Keeue. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

upon  the  Third  Avenue  line.  I  stood  with 
Charles  Peters,  James  G.  Burnett,  and 
Miss  Couldock,  who  all  lived  in  Yorkville, 
at  the  corner  of  Bleecker  Street  and  the 
Bowery,  waiting,  but  in  vain,  for  a  car. 
At  last  we  started  to  walk,  hoping  a  car 
would  overtake  us  ;  but  none  came,  and  we 
kept  on  until  we  reached  Yorkville,  look- 
ing as  though  we  had  arrived  from  the 
arctic  regions.  We  saw  Miss  Couldock  to 
her  home,  and  Burnett  and  Peters  did  all 
they  could  to  persuade  me  to  remain  with 
them  until  the  morning.  I  knew,  how- 
ever, that  my  wife  would  be  worrying 
about  me,  so  I  pushed  on  and  walked  the 
remainder  of  the  distance  to  Wilton.  I 
arrived  at  home  at  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and  was  a  sight  to  behold.  I 
had  on  a  loose  talma  coat,  which  stood 
out  as  stiff  as  a  board,  and  my  hair  and 
eyebrows  were  covered  with  ice.  After 
having  taken  a  glass  of  hot  grog,  I  felt 
little  the  worse  for  my  venture,  although 
many  people  would  think  it  an  undertak- 
ing to  walk  from  Bleecker  Street  to  One 
Hundred  and  Thirty-eighth  Street,  even 
133 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYEK 

on  a  pleasant  day.  The  next  morning  the 
sun  came  out  in  all  his  glory,  the  sky 
cleared,  and  soon  scarcely  a  vestige  of  the 
storm  was  to  be  seen. 

On  another  occasion  during  my  stay  at 
Wilton,  while  I  was  going  home  on  a  dark 
night,  I  heard  footsteps  approaching  me 
from  behind,  a  thing  that  always  made 
me  uncomfortable.  I  accelerated  my 
speed,  and  so  did  the  person  following  me. 
It  was  so  dark  and  lonely  that  I  did  not 
know  exactly  what  might  occur,  and  I 
thought  I  would  get  rid  of  my  pursuer  by 
crossing  to  the  other  side  of  the  street. 
He  dogged  my  footsteps,  however,  never 
speaking  a  word,  nor  did  I,  until  we  came 
to  Cherry  Lane  and  the  burying-ground 
of  St.  Ann's  Church.  Then  he  crossed 
over  to  my  side  of  the  way  and  approached 
nearer.  I  must  say  I  felt  very  creepy. 
He  was  tall,  with  a  pale  face,  and  he  wore 
a  slouched  hat,  and  had  his  arms  crossed 
upon  his  breast,  his  hands  in  the  inner 
pockets  rattling  something  that  sounded 
like  keys.  For  some  time  he  did  not 
speak,  but  at  last  he  said,  "You  are  not 
134 


BECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEK 

afraid  of  me,  are  you?"  I  felt  my  hair 
gradually  rising,  but  managed  to  say  that 
as  I  had  never  done  any  one  any  wrong, 
I  ought  not  to  fear.  He  then  told  me  he 
had  been  confined  in  an  asylum,  and  that 
'  people  thought  him  mad,  but  that  he  was 
not.  I  now  made  sure  that  the  supposed 
keys  were  fetters.  However,  by  this  time 
I  had  reached  my  own  gate,  which,  as  I 
opened,  he  tried  to  enter.  I  succeeded  in 
getting  inside  and  closing  the  gate,  but 
he  still  persisted  in  endeavoring  to  get  in. 
I  told  him  that  he  could  not,  as  he  would 
frighten  my  wife.  "Ask  her  if  I  can't 
come  in,"  he  said.  I  eluded  him,  however, 
the  door  of  the  house  was  opened,  I  bolted 
in,  and  quickly  fastened  the  door.  For 
more  than  an  hour  he  walked  up  and  down 
on  the  piazza,  to  our  great  discomfort. 
My  wife's  brother,  who  was  visiting  us,  and 
was  a  strong  fellow,  who  had  been  a  num- 
ber of  years  at  sea,  and  therefore  bolder 
than  I  was,  volunteered  to  get  rid  of  the 
intruder,  and,  going  out  with  a  stout  stick, 
drove  him  away.  Next  morning  we 
learned  that  the  houses  of  two  of  our 
135 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

neighbors  had  been  broken  into  and 
robbed,  and  although  we  had  no  positive 
proof,  we  suspected  that  my  road  com- 
panion was  the  burglar. 

This  was  my  early  experience  of  Wilton. 
In  time  the  place  grew  a  little,  Mr.  Le- 
vick  building  next  to  me,  Mr.  Eddy  below 
him,  and  Mr.  France  putting  up  a  house, 
as  did  Mr.  Daly.  Mark  Smith  sold  his 
lots.  There  were  others  of  the  theatrical 
profession  who  located  there,  and  the  place 
came  to  be  known  locally  as  "  Actorsville." 
In  the  course  of  time  my  cottage  became, 
in  its  modest  way,  a  beautiful  place.  I 
planted  trees  and  many  shrubs  and  vines, 
and  had  a  little  orchard  of  dwarf  pears, 
and  a  trellis  of  grapes  around  three  sides 
of  the  house.  Moreover,  the  position  of 
itself  was  so  rural  you  could  have  imagined 
yourself  miles  and  miles  from  New  York. 
My  two  little  chaps  were  born  here.  The 
house  stood  on  a  hill  overlooking  the 
Sound,  and,  despite  the  long  tramp  from 
Bleecker  Street,  I  always  felt  well  repaid 
for  my  fatigue  by  seeing  the  light  in  the 
window  which  served  as  a  beacon  to  guide 
136 


William  Mitchell. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

me  to  the  home  I  had  struggled  so  hard  to 
obtain  and  so  greatly  loved. 

That  I  was  the  owner  even  of  so  modest 
an  estate  filled  me  with  pride.  I  thought 
I  should  never  leave  it ;  but  ah,  how  little 
we  know  of  the  future  !  Mrs.  Stoddart's 
health  began  to  fail,  and  as  the  doctor  told 
me  that  the  brackish  air  from  the  Sound 
was  injurious  to  her,  she  suffering  from 
asthma,  I  decided  that  we  must  leave  the 
place.  A  person  living  at  West  Farms 
had  taken  a  fancy  to  our  property  and 
was  anxious  to  purchase  it.  At  first  I 
scouted  the  idea,  but  as  my  wife's  health 
was  now  the  main  consideration,  I  finally 
yielded,  and  sold  the  place.  We  then  re- 
turned to  New  York. 

Not  long  ago  I  felt  a  desire  to  have  a 
look  at  the  old  house,  and  journeyed 
thither  for  the  purpose.  When  I  built  it, 
in  1859,  there  was,  from  Mott's  Foundry 
at  the  north  end  of  Harlem  Bridge  to  my 
own  cottage,  scarcely  a  house,  where  now? 
all  along  Third  Avenue  (then  known  as 
Boston  Road)  and  up  One  Hundred  and 
Thirty-eighth  Street,  there  are  stores  and 
137 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PLAYER 

flats,  while  in  the  streets  which  were  then 
little  more  than  country  roads  are  now 
seen  the  modern  electric  cars.  All  the 
beautiful  old  cherry-trees  have  been  razed 
to  the  ground,  and  where  once  flowed  the 
pretty  little  brook  there  is  now  an  avenue 
lined  with  buildings,  the  abode  of  hun- 
dreds of  people.  My  cottage  still  stands, 
but  it  is  overshadowed  on  each  side  by 
five -story  brick  flat-houses.  The  little 
St.  Ann's  Church  was  the  only  thing  left 
to  remind  me  of  the  Wilton  that  I  had 
known.  My  son,  who  was  born  there,  but 
left  at  too  tender  an  age  to  remember 
much  of  its  beauty,  and  who  had  heard 
me  speak  so  often  of  it,  accompanied  me, 
and  found  it  hard  to  realize  that  this  busy 
thoroughfare,  with  its  throngs  of  people, 
covered  the  spot  where  had  been  the  first 
country  home  of  his  father. 

I  remained  with  Laura  Keene  until  she 
retired  from  the  theater,  when  Mrs.  John 
Wood  became  the  new  manager.  She 
changed  the  name  to  the  Olympic.  Pre- 
vious to  entering  upon  her  new  venture, 
she  played  for  a  time  with  Mr.  Jefferson 
138 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

at  the  Winter  Garden,  and  I  was  a  mem- 
ber of  their  company  during  a  successful 
season.  I  had  hoped  that  Mr.  Jefferson 
would  have  been  associated  with  Mrs. 
Wood  in  her  new  enterprise,  but  it  did 
not  so  happen,  for  when  they  parted  he 
went  to  California  and  afterward  to  Aus- 
tralia. 

Mrs.  Wood's  career  at  the  Olympic  was 
a  brilliant  one,  and  many  clever  people 
were  engaged  for  her  company.  There 
were  E.  L.  Davenport,  William  Holston, 
James  Lewis,  William  Davidge,  Kate 
Newton,  Eliza  Newton,  Mrs.  G.  H.  Gil- 
bert, J.  B.  Studley,  George  Boniface,  Ed- 
ward Lamb,  George  Fawcett  Rowe,  J.  K. 
Mortimer,  and  others.  Mr.  John  H.  Sel- 
wyn  was  the  stage-manager  and  J.  E. 
Hayes  the  scenic  artist.  Mrs.  Wood  man- 
aged the  theater  for  three  years,  and  dur- 
ing that  time  produced  a  variety  of  pieces, 
including  comedies,  burlesques,  dramas, 
etc.  Everything  was  finely  put  on  the 
stage,  the  scenery  being  specially  worthy 
of  notice,  as  Mr.  Hayes  was  a  most  expert 
and  accomplished  scenic  painter.  Some 
139 


RECOLLECTIONS  OP  A  PLAYER 

of  his  transformation  scenes  were  astonish- 
ingly effective.  The  "Streets  of  New  York/' 
with  J.  K.  Mortimer  as  Badger,  enjoyed 
a  long  run,  as  did  also  "Monte  Cristo," 
with  E.  L.  Davenport  in  the  principal 
part.  James  Lewis  made  his  first  appear- 
ance in  New  York,  with  Mrs.  Wood,  at 
this  theater,  as  did  Mrs.  G.  H.  Gilbert.  I 
was  worked  into  all  the  pieces  produced, 
and  even  was  compelled,  on  one  or  two 
occasions,  to  tackle  a  singing  part,  much 
to  my  disgust  and,  I  have  no  doubt,  to  the 
discomfort  of  the  audience,  as  I  have  never 
been  gifted  with  vocal  talent.  On  a  later 
occasion  at  the  theater,  when  "Kip  Van 
Winkle"  was  produced  by  Mr.  Jefferson 
after  his  return  from  England  in  1866, 
during  rehearsal  of  the  chorus  in  the  first 
act,  beginning  "Mein  Herr  van  Dunk,  he 
never  got  drunk,"  £tc.,  the  leader  of  the 
orchestra,  Thomas  Baker,  not  being  satis- 
fied with  the  volume  of  sound  produced 
from  the  stage,  became  irritated,  and  called 
upon  all  performers  to  sing  louder.  Tak- 
ing my  cue  from  this,  I  pulled  out  most 
vociferously,  and,  I  presume,  as  usual,  was 
140 


OLljtlJPIC 

622  AWD  634  BBOA  D  WA  Y 

STAGE  MANAGED J  EC  8BLWYW 


CHANGE  OF  PROGRAMME 

TWO  NEW  PIECES 

•IJIBinil    IS.JOIIODII 

tt>H  THE  SECOND  TIME  AS  THE 

PRETTY  WIDOW  OF  THE  MILL 

S«oond  niiht  in  Amwica  of  an  .ntirely  n.w  and 

ORIGINAL    COMIC  PIECE, 


Tuesday    Evening  Jan.  ISfb,  1864. 

VOXl.   TEim    SXDOOPriD    maCB    DM"    .AJ»CEXFUG.A. 

u  wtiralj  uw  ud  eripuJ  Com.o  Pw«v  in  two  uti.  otU** 

BlfLL 

CHIN  A  SHOP! 


Mr.a.Becta 

Mr.  T.  OW.M 

""— fc.*i 


After  which, 
T7TTTS    SICOOlNrTD    TI3VIE. 

Uw  dlgut  ud  Uugkable  ComwiietU.  ntitled. 

COUSIN  CHERRY 


U  «U»e   Reparation,  and  .will  ip««di)]r  be  produced  with  New  Scntrj.  Appointment. 
excellent  and  eitraTafaut  Burleique  of       ^^^^^ 

MR.     FRAisTK 

Will  make  hi.  tnt  apptanuce  thi. 


i  at  a  Barter  to  8. 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

not  anywhere  near  the  key,  for  Mr.  Baker 
vociferated  :  "I  said  all  SING,  but  not  you, 
Mr.  Stoddart." 

Mrs.  Wood's  productions  of  "Martin 
Chuzzlewit"  and  "Our  Mutual  Friend" 
were  among  her  most  successful  ventures. 

As  Bailey,  the  boy  at  Mrs.  Todgers's,  in 
the  former  play,  Mrs.  Wood  found  a  part 
in  which  she  reveled.  She  was  the  life 
and  spirit  of  the  play.  Mrs.  Gilbert  as 
Sairey  Gamp  and  Charles  Parsloe  as  Betsy 
Prigg  were  also  happily  cast.  Humphrey 
Bland  gave  a  wonderfully  effective  im- 
personation of  Jonas  Chuzzlewit,  and  I  have 
not  yet  forgotten  his  intensity  in  the  mur- 
der scene,  or  his  catlike  manner,  taking 
off  his  shoes  and  creeping  out  of  the  house 
into  the  road  where  walked  his  victim. 
Davidge,  too,  was  excellent  as  Old  Martin 
Chuzzlewit,  and  I  think  I  added  something 
to  my  reputation  by  my  performance  of 
Pecksniff.  Altogether,  in  my  opinion,  it 
was  one  of  the  company's  best  perform- 
ances. Equally  good  was  the  production 
of  "Our  Mutual  Friend."  The  mill  scene 
was,  at  that  time,  thought  to  be  a  wonder- 
141 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

fal  piece  of  effective  realism,  and  even  in 
these  progressive  days  the  beauty  of  the 
scenery  which  Hayes  produced  would,  I 
think,  be  greatly  admired.  I  append  the 
cast  of  characters : 

BELLA  WILFER     .    .    .     Mrs.  John  Wood 

MRS.  BOFFIN Miss  Harris 

LIZZIE  HEXHAM Kate  Newton 

CHARLIE  HEXHAM    .    .    .      Louisa  Myers 

MRS.  WILFER Mrs.  Gilbert 

SILAS  WEGG  .  .  .  George  Fawcett  Rowe 
JOHN  HARMON  .  .  .  .  J.  W.  Albaugh 
EUGENE  WRAYBURN  .  George  Boniface 
MORTIMER  LIGHTWOOD  Charles  Rockwell 
ROGUE  RLDERHOOD  .  .  .  .  J.  B.  Studley 
GAFFER  HEX  FT  AM  .  .  .  Charles  Morton 

MR.  VENUS T.  J.  Hind 

MR.  BOFFIN J.  H.  Stoddart 

Charles  Morton,  mentioned  above,  was 
afterward  long  identified  with  the  pro- 
duction of  the  "Black  Crook." 

Another  good  production  was  "The 
Three  Guardsmen."  The  cast  included 
George  Fawcett  Rowe,  Studley,  Boniface, 
Mrs.  Wood,  Kate  Newton,  and  Mme. 
Methua  Schiller.  I  played  the  part  of 
Richelieu,  and  I  remember  I  received  quite 
142 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYEK 

a  scoring  from  the  press.  I  do  not  think 
it  was  deserved,  for  the  character,  as  it 
appears  in  "The  Three  Guardsmen,"  is 
that  of  a  young  man,  a  disagreeable,  heavy 
part,  and  a  thankless  one.  Some  of  the 
papers  absurdly  attempted  to  compare  my 
performance  with  Mr.  Booth's  Richelieu  in 
Bulwer's  play,  which  was  a  different 
matter ;  but  I  received  what  I  considered 
justice  from  an  unexpected  quarter— the 
"Police  Gazette,"  which  pointed  out  the 
absurdity  of  the  comparison. 

During  Mrs.  Wood's  second  season 
Augustin  Daly  produced  a  comedy  called 
"Taming  a  Butterfly,"  a  clever  piece. 
He  was  at  that  time  of  the  staff  of  the 
New  York  "Times,"  and  I  remember  his 
reading  the  play  to  the  company.  Mrs. 
Wood,  I  think,  stood  alone  in  a  certain 
line  of  characters.  She  was  immensely 
popular,  and  much  liked  and  respected 
by  her  company.  While  she  managed  the 
Olympic  it  was  conducted  in  a  thoroughly 
artistic  way ;  she  was  a  power  in  herself, 
liberal  in  her  views,  and  spared  no  expense 
that  she  deemed  necessary  to  the  proper 
143 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

conduct  of  her  theater.  I  was  with  her 
during  the  three  years  of  her  management, 
and  her  retirement  from  it  caused  great 
regret,  not  only  on  the  part  of  the  public, 
but  also  to  all  her  associates. 

After  Mrs.  Wood  retired  Mr.  Leonard 
Grover  took  possession  of  the  house,  and 
several  members  of  the  company  continued 
with  him,  of  whom  I  was  one.  Mr.  Charles 
Barron  came  from  Boston  to  join  us  ;  Stuart 
Robson  was  also  a  member.  "The  Hugue- 
not Cap  tain "  and  other  plays  were  per- 
formed. Mr.  Grover's  dramatic  season  was 
of  short  duration,  and  an  operatic  com- 
pany was  soon  brought  into  the  theater. 
Before  that  event  Mr.  George  Jordan, 
after  a  long  absence  from  New  York,  was 
brought  from  London,  making  his  reap- 
pearance in  a  drama  played  by  Mr.  Fech- 
ter  called  "The  Master  of  Ravenswood," 
being  a  new  version  of  the  old  play  "The 
Bride  of  Lammermoor."  It  was  a  fine 
production,  but  a  dismal  failure.  Jordan, 
who  had  been  so  popular  at  one  time,  was 
received  in  the  coldest  manner,  and  he 
seemed  to  feel  it  keenly,  for  after  the 
144 


Mr.  Stoddart  as  Moneypenny. 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYEE 

play's  brief  run  lie  returned  to  England, 
where  not  long  afterward  he  died.  Fol- 
lowing "The  Master  of  Eavenswood,"  Bou- 
cicault's  drama  of  "The  Long  Strike  "  was 
produced.  I  had  some  disagreeable  words 
with  Mr.  Grover  in  consequence  of  his 
having  cast  me  for  the  part  of  Moneypenny 
in  this  play.  I  had  read  the  criticisms  on 
the  London  production  of  the  piece,  and 
Mr.  Emery,  who  played  Noah  Learoyd,  was 
highly  commended.  As  he  occupied  in 
London  the  same  position  as  I  did  with 
Mr.  Grover,— that  of  character  actor,— I 
considered  that  it  was  not  proper  for  Mr. 
Charles  Wheatleigh  to  play  the  part  of 
Noah,  for  which  he  was  specially  engaged. 
I  thought  it  unjust,  and  said  so ;  but  the 
manager  would  not  alter  his  decision. 
After  the  first  performance  I  was  glad 
that  he  had  not  done  so.  In  searching  for 
some  means  of  making  the  part  of  Money- 
penny  as  effective  as  possible,  I  hit  upon  a 
nervous,  crabbed,  and  fidgety  way  of  play- 
ing it  that  made  the  character  stand  out 
and  did  me  more  good,  in  the  way  of  ad- 
vancement, than  anything  I  hadpreviously 
10  145 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

done.  Mr.  Wheatleigh  was  capital  as 
Noah  Learoyd,  and  so  it  turned  out  that 
Mr.  Grover  knew  better  how  to  cast  the 
play  than  I  did. 

"The  Long  Strike"  was  a  success ; 
McKee  Rankin,  James  Ward,  Charles 
Vandenhoff,  and  Kate  Newton  played  in 
it,  and  contributed  largely  thereto.  Our 
manager  had  arranged  to  bring  in  his 
opera  company,  and  we  had  to  give  place. 
It  so  happened  that  Mr.  Tilly  Haynes,  the 
proprietor  of  the  theater  in  Springfield, 
Massachusetts,  witnessed  a  performance  of 
"The  Long  Strike,"  and  being  pleased 
with  it,  he  sent  a  note  to  my  dressing-room 
inquiring  if,  on  our  closing  in  New  York, 
we  would  bring  the  play  to  Springfield 
for  a  week.  Our  season  at  the  Olympic 
haying  been  brought  thus  abruptly  to  an 
end,  we  were  all  glad  of  this  chance  to 
prolong  it,  so  we  got  together  and  agreed 
to  start  out  on  our  own  account,  as  a  sort 
of  a  commonwealth.  We  opened  in  Spring- 
field, and  played  to  fine  business  for  a  week. 
Afterward  we  visited  all  of  the  New  Eng- 
land cities,  making  a  long  season,  and 
146 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF  A  PLAYER 

returned  to  New  York  rather  better  off 
than  if  we  had  been  employed  there  all 
the  winter. 

After  leaving  Wilton,  and  in  pursuance 
of  my  ruling  passion,  I  had  made  another 
venture  and  bought  a  small  farm  near 
Rahway,  in  New  Jersey.  I  was  still  bent 
on  having  a  country  home,  but  this  time 
we  had  decided  on  living  in  the  city  dur- 
ing the  winter  months.  We  had  not  re- 
sided long  in  the  city  when  we  lost  our 
elder  boy  ;  and  having  an  idea  that  had 
we  remained  in  Wilton  we  might  have 
escaped  so  great  an  affliction,  and  fearing 
that  something  similar  might  befall  our 
other  children,  we  determined  to  make 
the  country  our  permanent  home.  We 
therefore  took  up  our  residence  at  "Ave- 
nel,"  as  the  farm  was  called,  where  we  re- 
mained for  twenty  years. 

I  rejoined  Mr.  Wallack  in  1867,  remain- 
ing with  him  for  seven  years,  and  all  that 
time  living  at  Avenel.  My  opening  part 
at  Wallack's  (the  house  afterward  called 
the  Star,  and  recently  razed)  was  Mar  all  in 
"A  New  Way  to  Pay  Old  Debts,"  in  which 
147 


KECOLLECTIOJSTS   OF   A   PLAYEK 

E.  L.  Davenport  was  the  Sir  Giles  Over- 
reach—a masterly  performance.  When  a 
youngster  in  Aberdeen  I  had  played  Mar- 
all  with  Gustavus  V.  Brooke,  and  his  per- 
formance made  a  great  impression  on  me  ; 
but  Mr.  Davenport's  impersonation,  I 
think,  was  equally  great  with  that  of 
Brooke.  Mr.  John  Gilbert  played  all  the 
principal  old  men,  and  therefore  I  found 
myself  allotted  to  a  line  of  eccentric  char- 
acters, splendid  parts,  but  such  as  I  never 
had  expected  to  be  called  upon  to  play. 
Some  of  them  were  Acres  in  "The  Kivals," 
Doctor  Ollapod  in  "The  Poor  Gentleman," 
and  Doctor  Pangloss  in  "The  Heir-at-Law." 
Not  having  had  the  advantage  of  a  classi- 
cal education,  I  dreaded  Pangloss,  filled  as 
it  is  with  quotations  from  the  dead  lan- 
guages. However,  I  obtained  a  letter  of 
introduction  to  a  skilled  linguist,  who 
coached  me  in  the  pronunciation  and 
meaning  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  quota- 
tions, and  as  no  fault  was  found  with  my 
efforts,  I  presume  I  could  not  have  been 
altogether  bad. 

I  often  wonder  how  I  succeeded  in  mas- 
148 


John  Gilbert. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

tering  the  words  of  all  those  parts.  Living 
as  I  did  in  the  country,  I  was  a  commuter 
on  the  railroad,  and  during  all  the  time  I 
attended  to  my  duties  at  the  theater,  in- 
cluding rehearsals,  after  which  I  went  by 
street-car  to  the  ferry  for  Jersey  City,  and 
then,  nightly,  by  train  to  the  station  at 
Rahway,  which  was  distant  from  my  home 
about  two  miles.  There  my  man  would 
meet  me,  sometimes  with  a  carriage,  and 
at  others,  when  the  roads  were  bad,  with 
an  extra  saddle-horse,  on  which  I  would 
ride  home— sometimes  arriving  there  as 
late  as  two  o'clock  in  the  morning.  And 
this  I  did  for  twenty  years.  Many  of  my 
associates  at  the  theater  frequently  said 
that  they  would  not  go  through  such  an 
experience  for  all  the  farms  in  New  Jer- 
sey. Alas !  many  of  them  are  dead,  and 
I  scarcely  need  say  that  I  am  much  alive 
yet. 

I  had  been  so  fortunate  with  my  few 
pear-trees  at  Wilton  that  now,  being  in 
possession  of  about  forty  acres,  the  oppor- 
tunity presented  itself  to  go  into  it  "big," 
and  I  resolved  to  do  so.  I  read  all  sorts 
149 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

of  agricultural  literature— "Ten  Acres 
Enough"  and  "Pear  Culture  for  Profit/7 
written  by  Mr.  Quinn,  who  lived  on  Pro- 
fessor Mapes's  old  place  at  Waverly,  New 
Jersey.  I  understood  that  Quinn  had  a 
splendid  pear  orchard,  and  pear  culture 
was  my  ambition,  so  off  I  went  to  inter- 
view him.  He  took  me  through  his  pear 
orchard— a  grand  sight,  thousands  of  trees 
all  in  bloom.  I  was  enchanted.  As  Mr. 
Quinn  was  a  theater-goer,  he  knew  me,  and 
I  having  told  him  of  my  ambition  to  be- 
come a  pear-grower,  and  having  asked  his 
advice,  he  gave  me  good  counsel  as  to  what 
varieties  to  plant.  I  explained  that  it  was 
my  purpose,  when  the  orchard  became  suf- 
ficiently remunerative,  and  I  had  reached 
the  age  of  sixty  years,  to  leave  the  stage, 
and  to  pass  the  evening  of  my  days  in  at- 
tending to  the  marketing  of  my  fruit,  in 
communion  with  my  family,  and  at  peace 
with  all  mankind.  Mr.  Quinn  thought  my 
plan  an  excellent  one,  and  advised  me  to 
plant  only  two  varieties  of  pears,  the  Bart- 
lett  and  the  Duchess  d'Angouleme,  telling 
me  that  I  could  grow  the  latter  as  easily 
150 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

as  potatoes,  and  that  in  the  market  they 
were  worth  five  dollars  a  barrel.  I  was 
delighted,  and  flew  home  to  Mrs.  Stoddart, 
growing  enthusiastic  over  my  interview 
with  Mr.  Quinn.  She  thought  there  might 
be  something  in  it,  but  did  not  take  the 
same  rosy  view  of  the  matter  that  I  did. 
It  was  her  idea  that  I  should  plant  a  few 
at  first  and  see  how  they  turned  out. 
"Why,  my  dear,"  I  said,  "that  would  be 
of  no  use  at  all ;  it  is  the  great  quantity 
planted,  and  all  coming  into  bearing  at 
the  same  time,  that  is  going  to  do  the 
trick." 

Mrs.  Stoddart  was  always  the  treasurer, 
and  seeing  my  anxiety,  she  fell  into  my 
views,  dear  soul,  as  she  always  did,  and 
surrendered  what  cash  we  had  on  hand 
available  to  my  project.  I  ordered  pear- 
trees  by  the  thousands.  We  planted  our 
orchard  on  a  beautiful  eastern  slope  where 
we  could  overlook  it  from  our  veranda, 
and  when  all  was  completed  I  surveyed 
the  work  with  satisfaction,  saying  to  my 
wife  :  "There,  my  dear ;  by  the  time  I  am 
sixty  our  orchard  will  be  in  full  bearing, 
151 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

and  then  I  need  act  no  more."  Ah,  the 
fallacy  of  human  hopes  !  At  seventy-four 
I  am  still  acting.  The  orchard— well,  the 
orchard  has  gone. 

Charles  Thome's  brother  Ned  had  a 
place  at  Toms  River  where  he  used  to 
breed  dogs.  Charles  would  go  down  there, 
select  those  that  caught  his  fancy,  and 
bring  them  up  to  New  York.  Knowing 
I  had  a  farm,  he  said  I  ought  to  have  a 
dog,  and  he  gave  me  one— a  Gordon  setter. 
Stuart  Robson  and  he  were  at  the  time 
enthusiastic  regarding  the  production  of 
"The  Two  Men  of  Sandy  Bar,"  a  dramati- 
zation of  Bret  Harte's  story  that  Robson 
had  bought.  I  was  selected  to  play  the 
part  of  Sandy.  Both  Thorne  and  Robson 
said  to  me :  "Stoddart,/or  luck  call  your 
dog '  Sandy.'"  And  I  did.  I  took  him  out 
to  my  homestead  a  pup,  and  he  remained 
there  until  he  died  of  old  age.  Thorne 
had  a  beautiful  Skye  terrier  called  Jack, 
a  small  shaggy  creature  with  long  hair  like 
silk.  You  could  scarcely  tell  his  head  from 
his  tail.  He  valued  him  very  much,  and 
when  we  started  on  our  travels  he  asked 
152 


KECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

me  to  care  for  him  at  my  farm  until  our 
return.  I  did  j  but  Jack,  who  had  lived  in  a 
parlor  and  was  washed  and  combed  every 
day,  became  dreadfully  metamorphosed 
when  he  rambled  with  Sandy  through 
the  Jersey  mud,  so  much  so  that  when 
Thorne  came  out  to  the  farm  to  take  him 
back  to  New  York  he  scarcely  knew  him. 
I  felt  ashamed,  myself,  of  Jack's  appear- 
ance ;  and,  to  add  to  our  discomfort,  the 
dog  insisted  on  treating  Thorne  as  a  stran- 
ger, greeting  him  with  sullen  growls.  "I 
don't  want  him,"  said  Thorne  ;  "you  may 
keep  him."  And  we  did  for  years. 

Sandy  and  Jack  ever  held  a  warm  place 
in  our  affections.  After  my  long  journey 
from  the  theater,  the  ill-assorted  pair  were 
always  on  hand,  late  as  it  was,  to  give  me 
a  joyous  welcome.  Sandy  passed  his  life 
with  us,  and  we  all  mourned  his  loss  as 
keenly  as  if  he  had  been  a  member  of  the 
family. 

To  return  to  my  farming  :  I  pitched  in 

manfully  every  moment  I  could  spare,  and 

was  always  to  be  seen,  hoe  in  hand,  among 

my  trees.     Year  after  year  it  was  my  cus- 

153 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

torn  to  leave  the  farm  early  in  the  morn- 
ing for  rehearsal  at  the  theater,  after  which 
I  would  return  home,  remaining  there 
only  a  short  time,  and  again  retracing  my 
steps  to  the  city  for  the  evening's  per- 
formance, closing  my  day's  work  by  the 
midnight  trip  home  again.  I  had  by  this 
time  an  important  position  in  the  theater 
—long  parts  in  nearly  every  piece,  and  a 
frequent  change  of  program.  I  have  of 
late  so  often  been  nervous  and  ill  at  ease, 
in  spite  of  having  ample  time  for  study  and 
weeks  of  preparation  in  rehearsal,  that  I 
have  wondered  how  I  got  through  the 
work  in  those  days,  under  the  circum- 
stances that  I  have  mentioned.  Perhaps 
it  was  because  I  was  then  forty  and  in  the 
prime  of  life. 

In  all  the  years  I  lived  upon  my  farm 
and  took  those  long  journeys,  I  never 
failed  but  once  of  being  on  time  for  my 
duty  at  the  theater.  This  was  during  the 
run  of  "Rosedale"  at  Wallack's,  in  which 
I  was  playing  Buriberry  Cobb,  a  part  origi- 
nally acted  by  Mr.  George  Holland.  My 
train  was  on  time,  but  something  happened 
154 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

to  the  ferry-boat  which  caused  us  to  floun- 
der and  float  about  in  the  North  River. 
It  got  to  be  a  quarter  to  eight,  then  eight, 
then  quarter-past  eight  o'clock,  and  I  was 
distracted.  I  rushed  first  to  the  captain, 
then  to  the  engineer.  "I  am,"  I  said,  "an 
actor  5  I  belong  to  Wallack's.  Oh,  can't 
you  do  something  to  get  me  ashore  ?  My 
absence  may  interfere  with  the  entire 
performance."  The  captain  was  too  busy 
about  his  boat  to  listen  to  me.  The  en- 
gineer did,  however,  and  laughed.  We 
eventually  reached  Desbrosses  Street,  after 
half-past  eight.  As  I  found  no  car  at  the 
ferry-house,  I  ran  all  the  way  to  Broadway, 
got  into  a  stage,  and  finally  reached  the 
theater,  at  Thirteenth  Street.  Charles 
Fisher  and  I  dressed  together,  and  we  had 
a  dresser  known  as  "old  Edward."  Fisher 
was  not  acting,  and  Edward  had  neglected 
to  report  my  absence  from  the  theater,  so 
that  my  cue  to  go  on  had  been  given  and 
I  was  not  there.  I  was  in  my  dressing- 
room,  bathed  in  perspiration  and  all  ex- 
citement, when  Mr.  Wallack  came  in  and 
began  to  blow  up  poor  old  Edward  for  not 
155 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

reporting  my  absence  from  the  theater. 
I  interceded  for  him,  saying  that  I  alone 
was  to  blame.  Mr.  Wallack  interrupted 
me  by  saying :  "I  won't  say  anything  to 
you,  Stoddart ;  I  see  the  state  you  are  in  j 
but,  d— n  it,  you  should  n't  live  in  the 
country."  I  dressed  and  played  the  re- 
mainder of  the  part,  and  the  incident 
closed. 

Lester  Wallack,  like  his  father,  con- 
ducted his  theater  on  the  most  liberal 
principles.  After  his  father  retired  from 
the  active  management  of  the  theater,  he 
assumed  control,  and  acted  only  occasion- 
ally. In  the  event  of  a  new  piece  being  a 
comparative  failure,  Lester  would  come  to 
the  rescue  in  some  of  his  old  parts,  and 
always  succeeded  in  saving  the  day.  His 
own  play  of  "Rosedale"  was  always  a 
drawing  card.  Once  when  this  piece  was 
on  for  a  run,  the  gentleman  cast  for  Colonel 
May  was  suddenly  taken  ill.  Mr.  Charles 
Rockwell,  a  minor  member  of  the  com- 
pany, went  on  in  the  part  at  very  short 
notice,  and  played  it  so  creditably  that 
Lester  said  to  him  next  day  :  "  Rock  well, 
156 


Lester  Wallack. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

you  must  be  putting  by  a  liberal  sum  each 
week  out  of  your  salary,  it  is  such  an 
enormous  one.  I  have  taken  the  liberty 
of  buying  you  a  pocket-book  so  that  you 
may  not  lose  any  of  it."  Upon  opening 
the  wallet  Rockwell  found  it  contained  a 
fifty-dollar  bill,  with  Wallack's  thanks  for 
his  performance  of  Colonel  May.  For  a 
whole  season  James  W.  "Wallack  and  E. 
L.  Davenport  were  stock  members,  divid- 
ing the  business,  giving  and  taking*  and 
all  in  the  most  agreeable  way.  Charles 
Mathews  also  played  an  entire  season,  and 
without  more  prominence  being  given  to 
him  than  to  the  most  minor  member. 

I  recall  a  cast  of  "London  Assurance" 
that  was  remarkably  strong  in  the  men. 
Mr.  Gilbert  played  Sir  Harcourt  Courtly, 
John  Brougham  Max  Harkaway,  Mr.  Wal- 
lack Charles  Courtly,  Mathews  Dazzle,  Joe 
Polk  Dolly  Spanker,  and  I  Mark  Meddle. 
The  comedy  had  a  good  run,  two  weeks. 
Some  of  my  most  pleasant  remembrances 
are  of  the  seven  years  I  passed  as  an  actor  in 
the  Thirteenth  Street  house.  Many  changes 
in  the  company  took  place  during  that 
157 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

time,  but  it  was  always  kept  up  to  its  high 
standard.  Lester  Wallack's  courteous 
treatment  of  all  the  members  of  his  com- 
pany ;  the  repertory  of  pieces ;  the  com- 
fort of  the  theater ;  the  efficiency  of  the 
attendants,— all  tended  to  make  life  in 
Wallack's  a  particularly  pleasant  one. 

A  lady  of  my  acquaintance  was  talking 
to  me,  not  long  ago,  about  the  old  days  at 
Wallack's,  and  of  the  plays  produced  there. 
She  mentioned  particularly  Robertson's 
plays,  saying  she  should  never  forget  the 
performance  of  "School  "—the  beauty  of 
the  stage  setting,  not  so  often  seen  then, 
with  its  rural  landscape,  and  fountain  of 
real  water,  the  young  school-girls,  etc. 
Then  she  went  on  to  name  the  players  in 
the  cast,  calling  them  all  "dear."  There 
was  "dear  Mr.  Gilbert,"  "dear  Mr.  Fisher," 
"dear  Owen  Marlowe,"  "dear  Mrs.  Ver- 
non,"  "dear  Mrs.  Jennings,"  and  "dear 
Effie  Germon  "  ;  and  there  was  Mr.  Stod- 
dart  as  the  hateful  old  teacher  Krux,  who, 
she  said,  was  not  dear  at  all.  Ah,  the  old 
days  and  my  old  companions  !  I  was  glad 
to  hear  they  were  not  forgotten  by  my 
158 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

friend.  And  the  name  of  Tom  Robertson 
brought  back  to  me  our  first  meeting  in 
Yorkshire,  years  and  years  ago,  when  I 
listened  to  the  reading  of  his  plays,  which 
I  could  not  then  quite  understand,  and 
when  he  was,  like  myself,  a  struggling 
player. 

I  had  acted,  at  the  end  of  our  regular 
season,  two  summer  engagements  lasting 
a  few  weeks  in  "The  Long  Strike,"  which 
seemed  to  turn  out  well.  On  one  occasion 
Mr.  Charles  Vandenhoff  and  some  other 
ladies  and  gentlemen  had  some  financial 
trouble  at  another  theater.  Mr.  Moss, 
Wallack's  treasurer  and  representative, 
had  made  an  arrangement  with  them  to 
play  in  "The  Long  Strike."  There  was 
nothing  said  until  the  time  came  to  begin 
the  performance,  and  then  there  was  an 
actual  strike— the  actors  refusing  to  go  on 
until  the  money  due  to  them  from  their 
former  manager  had  been  paid.  Mr.  Moss 
tried  to  convince  them  that  he  had  no- 
thing to  do  with  their  previous  engage- 
ment, but  they  were  obdurate  and  would 
not  yield.  Mark  the  result.  Mr.  Moss 
159 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

gave  at  once  a  check  for  the  amount 
claimed,  payment  of  which  he  stopped 
next  morning.  Mr.  Floyd,  the  stage-man- 
ager, rehearsed  a  new  lot  of  people,  hur- 
riedly gathered,  and  "The  Long  Strike'7 
was  played  with  a  new  cast  the  following 
night,  and  in  a  creditable  manner.  It 
was  a  most  unjust  proceeding  on  the  part 
of  Vandenhoff  and  his  associates,  and  I  pre- 
sume they  lost,  as  they  deserved  to  lose,  a 
night's  salary  for  their  pains. 

Our  two  summer  experiences  at  Wai- 
lack's  with  "The  Long  Strike  "  gave  two 
of  my  associates,  B.  T.  Ringgold  and 
Charles  Rockwell,  the  idea  of  trying  it, 
during  our  vacation,  in  other  places.  I 
was  not  connected  with  the  speculation, 
but  went  with  them  under  a  salary.  They 
played  six  weeks  successfully  in  Syracuse, 
Buffalo,  Rochester,  and  other  cities  in  New 
York  State,  and  repeated  the  venture  the 
following  summer,  with  the  same  satis- 
factory result. 

On  the  strength  of  these  two  engage- 
ments I  was  persuaded  to  leave  Wallack's 
and  go  "starring  "  under  the  management 
160 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

of  Ringgold  and  Rockwell.  I  soon  re- 
gretted this  step.  I  had  been  for  so  many 
years  a  stock  actor  that  I  had  no  ambition 
beyond  it.  I  had  always  thought  that  a 
star  ought  to  be  one  gifted  with  ability 
far  beyond  his  fellows,  and  such  a  person 
I  did  not  then  consider  myself  to  be.  In 
Mr.  Wallaek's  stock  company  I  had  been 
associated  with  such  actors  as  Davenport, 
J.  W.  Wallack,  Charles  Mathews,  John 
Gilbert,  Miss  Rose  Eytinge,  Madeline 
Henriques,  Louisa  Moore,  Charles  Wynd- 
ham,  J.  C.  Williamson,  George  Clark, 
Fanny  Morant,  Mrs.  Thomas  Barry,  Mme. 
Ponisi,  George  Holland,  Mrs.  Vernon,  Mrs. 
John  Sefton,— formerly  known  at  Mit- 
chell's Olympic  Theater  as  Mrs.  Watts,— 
Katharine  Rogers,  and  with  other  talented 
people  under  his  father's  management  at 
the  Broome  Street  theater.  With  the 
exception  of  Davenport,  Wallack,  and 
Mathews,  who,  upon  occasion,  had  pre- 
viously appeared  as  stars,  all  of  the  above, 
artists  of  rare  ability,  were  of  the  class 
termed  "stock  actors,"  and  all  were  as- 
sembled in  this  company  on  an  equal 
11  161 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

footing,  no  one  being  featured  above  his 
fellows.  After  such  an  experience  and  so 
long  an  association  with  such  players  as 
these,  no  wonder  I  hesitated  to  claim  any- 
thing like  a  stellar  position  for  myself. 
Nobody  can  help  making  occasional  mis- 
takes, so  I  bade  farewell  to  W  attack's, 
where  I  had  served  so  long  with  father 
and  son,  to  old  associates,  and  to  a  por- 
tion of  my  New  York  career  that  I  shall 
always  remember  with  pleasure. 

The  management  engaged  a  good  com- 
pany, including  Miss  lone  Burke,  a  charm- 
ing actress,  and  Miss  Julia  Gaylord,  who, 
besides  being  a  competent  artiste,  was  a 
vocalist  of  rare  ability.  She  afterward 
became  a  member  of  the  Carl  Rosa  Opera 
Company,  and  with  it  sang  all  the  prin- 
cipal prima-donna  roles  throughout  Eng- 
land. Our  pieces  were  "The  Long  Strike," 
"Dearer  than  Life,"  and  "Meg's  Diver- 
sion." I  signed  a  contract  for  three  years, 
and  we  began  our  tour  in  the  fall  of  1873. 
The  luck  which  had  been  ours  in  our  pre- 
vious ventures  did  not  follow  us  in  this. 
I  was  more  sorry  for  my  managers  than 
162 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF   A  PLAYER 

for  myself,  for  I  was  their  attraction,  but, 
unluckily,  did  not  attract.  Our  non-suc- 
cess may  in  part,  I  think,  be  attributed  to 
the  fact  that,  outside  of  the  cities  of  New 
York  State  which  I  had  previously 
visited,  I  was  little  known  at  this  time ; 
and  then,  too,  the  whole  country  was 
laboring  under  the  stress  of  the  terrible 
financial  panic  which  swept  it  during  the 
year  1873.  It  seemed  too  bad,  for  the 
entertainment  was  a  worthy  one.  Some- 
times we  were  much  encouraged  by  the 
favor  of  our  audiences,  and  we  were  often 
told  that  when  we  came  back  the  theater 
would  be  crowded ;  but  on  our  return  to 
these  same  places  the  theaters  were  by  no 
means  full.  I  used  to  hear  the  forerunners, 
or  agents,  of  the  different  "shows,"  as  they 
were  called,  bragging  about  the  enormous 
business  done  by  the  companies  which  they 
represented.  I  had  seen  some  of  these 
companies,  and  I  wondered  why  they 
should  be  doing  so  well  and  we  so  badly. 
I  have  since  discovered  that  theatrical 
agents  are  not  always  noted  for  veracity. 
Messrs.  Kinggold  and  Rockwell  kept  the 
163 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

company  going  until  the  end  of  the  season, 
in  spite  of  poor  business,  meeting  all  their 
obligations.  At  the  end  of  it  I  parted 
with  my  managers,  canceling  our  contract 
by  mutual  consent.  I  left  them  with  re- 
gret ;  they  were  honorable  fellows,  and 
had  to  relinquish  their  enterprise  only  for 
lack  of  capital. 

My  position  at  Wallack's  was  filled  by 
Mr.  Harry  Beckett,  who  was  engaged  for 
the  purpose.  My  brother  George  at  this 
time  had  returned  from  England,  and  he 
and  I  formed  the  idea  of  going  "on  the 
road  "  on  our  own  account.  I  bought  from 
Mr.  Boucicault  the  rights  to  "The  Long 
Strike,"  and  my  brother  and  I  made  a 
second  venture.  The  result  was  not  much 
better.  I  was  wavering  as  to  my  future 
when  I  met  Mr.  Lawrence  Barrett,  and  I 
was  encouraged  by  what  he  said.  "I  have 
followed  you  in  the  different  towns/'  he 
remarked,  "and  you  are  highly  spoken  of 
everywhere.  Stick  to  it.  I  had  a  similar 
experience.  The  people  must  know  you 
and  expect  your  coming.  You  please 
those  who  do  see  you  ;  so  stick  to  it."  I 
164 


Mrs.  Vernon. 


OF  THE 

{UNIVERSITY  j 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

was  almost  determined  to  do  so,  but  when 
I  returned  to  New  York  I  happened  to 
go  to  the  Union  Square  Theater  to  see 
"Led  Astray."  During  the  interval  be- 
tween the  acts  I  met  Mr.  A.  M.  Palmer  in 
the  lobby,  and  he  asked  me  if  I  had  as  yet 
had  enough  of  starring.  I  told  him  that 
I  had  not  found  it  profitable.  "You  had 
better  come  to  me/7  he  said.  The  result 
was  that,  after  some  discussion  regarding 
terms,  I  was  engaged  as  a  member  of  the 
Union  Square  Theater  Company,  and  the 
association  thus  begun  lasted  for  nearly 
twenty  years.  It  was  thus  that  I  dis- 
missed the  notion  of  being  a  star. 

In  this  matter  of  starring  I  often  think 
how  conditions  have  changed  since  the  old 
days.  It  is  not  now  so  much  the  ability 
or  the  reputation  of  the  aspirant  for  stellar 
honors  which  so  much  avails  as  it  is  the 
attractiveness  of  the  play  in  which  he  ap- 
pears ;  not  so  much  the  individual  as  the 
material  in  which  he  appears— nowas  never 
before  "the  play  ?s  the  thing."  I  suppose 
if  I  had  been  provided  with  a  new  and  at- 
tractive vehicle  for  my  venture  the  result 
165 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

might  have  been  different.  However, 
what  I  lost  in  dollars  I  have  certainly 
made  up  in  comfort :  I  have  been  enabled 
to  remain  almost  constantly  in  New  York, 
the  haven  for  which  we  all  strive  ;  I  have 
had  the  longest  metropolitan  career  of 
any  actor  now  upon  the  stage  ;  I  have  had 
the  pleasure  of  being  associated  with  the 
best  companies ;  I  have  also  served  the  best 
managers,  from  the  elder  Wallack  to  the 
present  time ;  and,  above  all,  I  have  been 
enabled  to  pass  a  long  life  at  home,  in 
domestic  happiness.  So,  when  I  look  back- 
ward to  the  beginning  of  my  career  in  New 
York,  I  feel  that  I  have  much  cause  for 
gratitude  as  that  career  draws  near  its 
close. 

I  had  been  thrust  into  eccentric  comedy 
with  Wallack,  and  upon  my  advent  in  the 
Union  Square  Theater  Company  I  was 
obliged  again  to  change  my  line  of  busi- 
ness, for  Mr.  Stuart  Robson  was  the  come- 
dian of  the  company,  and  therefore  I  was 
put  on  for  character  work.  In  the  old 
days  you  had  to  try  and  make  yourself 
like  the  part  allotted  to  you,  whether  you 
166 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

were  really  suitable  or  not,  so  that  my 
early  training  helped  me  at  this  time. 

"Rose  Michel "  was  the  play  in  which  I 
opened  at  the  Union  Square.  In  this  I 
appeared  as  Pierre  Michel,  a  person  of  the 
class  known  as  "heavy  villains."  I  told 
Mr.  Palmer  I  thought  the  part  somewhat 
out  of  my  line,  but  he  thought  otherwise, 
and  circumstances  eventually  proved  that 
he  was  right,  for  I  got  much  credit  for  my 
performance.  I  have  an  impression  that 
I  was  largely  indebted  to  the  coat  I  wore 
for  any  success  which  I  achieved.  I  had 
been  told  to  order  my  dress,  making  my 
own  selection.  I  described  to  the  cos- 
turner  what  I  wanted,  directing  him  to 
make  a  long  gray  coat  which  should  reach 
down  to  my  heels,  explaining  that  my  part 
was  that  of  an  old  miser,  and  that  I  wanted 
my  dress,  as  far  as  possible,  to  convey  the 
character  of  the  man.  So  I  said  :  "Make 
it  loose  and  heavy,  so  that  I  can  slip  out 
of  it  in  a  second."  He  professed  to  know 
exactly  what  I  wanted,  and  set  to  work  to 
make  the  garment.  When  I  received  it 
I  was  disgusted.  It  was  a  clean  modern 
167 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYEE 

overcoat  with  a  bright  muslin  lining. 
However,  I  determined  to  make  it  what  I 
wanted,  so  I  took  it  out  to  my  farm  and 
spoiled  its  beauty  with  Jersey  mud.  Mrs. 
Stoddart  then  tackled  it,  lined  it  with  some 
heavy  old  material,  jagged  it  with  her 
shears,  and  then  threw  it  into  the  cellar 
and  made  a  mat  of  it  until  it  was  required. 
There  is  no  difficulty  in  obtaining  a  hand- 
some coat,  but  it  is  difficult  to  get  one  that 
shall  have  the  appearance  of  great  wear 
and  look  old,  moldy,  and  weather-beaten, 
such  as  was  necessary  for  the  miser  Pierre 
Michel.  When  we  got  through  with  that 
coat  it  was  all  I  could  desire,  and  afterward 
it  was  much  extolled  when  I  used  it  in  the 
play. 

I  sent  my  costume  ahead  from  the  coun- 
try to  the  theater  the  day  before  our  open- 
ing. We  had  no  rehearsal,  so  I  did  not 
go  in  until  evening.  On  reaching  the 
theater,  what  was  my  consternation  to 
learn  that  my  clothes  had  not  arrived  !  I 
was  almost  distracted.  The  overture  was 
about  to  be  rung  in,  and  I  had  nothing  to 
wear.  I  went  to  Mr.  Palmer  and  explained 
168 


EECOLLECTIONS    OF  A  PLAYEE 

my  plight.  He  said  :  "Keep  cool ;  don't 
excite  yourself.  You  don't  go  on  until 
the  second  act.  Hunt  it  up.  If  nothing 
else  can  be  done,  some  one  must  lend  you 
a  wig  and  you  must  get  what  you  can  out 
of  the  wardrobe."  The  things  had  been 
sent  by  Adams's  Express,  and  away  I 
rushed  to  the  company's  office,  some  dis- 
tance from  the  theater.  There  I  was  told 
that  the  packet  had  been  delivered.  I 
flew  back  to  the  theater,  almost  maddened. 
It  was  my  first  appearance  in  New  York 
since  I  had  left  Wallack's,  a  new  part  and 
a  new  manager ;  I  had  played  only  comedy 
parts,  and  was  now  to  appear  in  an  en- 
tirely different  character,  so  I  was  natu- 
rally nervous  ;  and  I  had  no  costume.  At 
the  theater  my  dress  was  nowhere  to  be 
found.  I  tried  the  Morton  House  without 
success.  I  do  not  know  what  possessed  me 
to  look  for  it  at  the  Union  Square  Hotel, 
but  I  did  look  for  it  there,  and  there  I 
found  it.  The  packet  had  been  delivered 
at  the  wrong  address  by  the  express  com- 
pany, a  mistake  occasioned  by  similarity 
of  names.  The  porter  at  the  hotel  volun- 
169 


EECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYEE 

teered  to  send  it  to  the  theater  for  me ; 
but,  once  having  recovered  it,  I  would  not 
give  it  up,  so  I  seized  it,  hurried  to  the 
theater,  and  luckily  was  able  to  get  myself 
dressed  in  time.  Mr.  Palmer  was  glad  to 
see  me,  and  the  company  congratulated 
me  on  the  recovery  of  my  "props." 

The  play  made  a  great  hit,  and  my  part 
went  well,  my  reception  being  generous. 
And  oh,  that  beautiful  coat !  It  proved 
all  that  I  could  have  wished.  Before  com- 
mitting the  murder,  I  threw  it  from  my 
shoulders,  and  it  slipped  down  to  the 
ground  and  lay  at  my  feet  like  a  bundle 
of  old  rags.  Mr.  Nat  Goodwin,  who  after- 
ward gave  imitations,  gave  an  excellent 
one  of  the  way  I  used  to  throw  this  coat 
from  my  shoulders  during  my  perform- 
ance. 

The  Union  Square  Theater  had  been 
running  successfully  for  several  seasons 
previous  to  my  advent  there.  "Agnes," 
"The  Two  Orphans,"  and  "Led  Astray" 
had  been  produced.  Although  I  was  a 
new  member,  I  met,  in  the  company,  some 
old  associates— Miss  Eose  Ey  tinge,  who  had 
170 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

been  the  leading  lady  at  Wallack's  during 
part  of  my  career  there,  and  Stuart  Rob- 
son,  with  whom  I  had  acted  at  Laura 
Keene's.  Charles  R.  Thorne,  Jr.,  an- 
other member,  and  I  had  played  small 
parts  together  in  "The  Invisible  Prince," 
with  Mrs.  John  Wood.  So  I  felt  compara- 
tively at  home.  "Rose  Michel "  was  beau- 
tifully staged  and  splendidly  acted.  To 
me  it  read  like  an  ordinary  melodrama, 
but  it  was  set  with  such  care  and  acted  in 
such  a  refined  manner  that  it  was  raised 
to  a  high  grade  of  performance.  The 
scenic  effects  produced  on  that  small  stage 
were  indeed  extraordinary.  Mr.  Marston, 
who  was  with  Mr.  Palmer  so  many  years, 
was,  and  is,  a  wonderful  scene-painter. 

The  rights  of  the  play  "Rose  Michel" 
for  America  had  been  bought  by  Mr. 
Palmer,  but  in  its  original  form  it  did  not 
please  him,  and  persons  were  employed  to 
make  alterations  in  it  so  as  to  render 
it  suitable  for  production  at  the  Union 
Square.  The  work  proved  unsatisfactory, 
however,  until  Mr.  Steele  Mackaye  essayed 
the  task  of  revision  and  his  version  was 
171 


EECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

accepted  and  played.  The  cast  included 
Eose  Eytinge,  Charles  E.  Thorne,  Jr., 
Stuart  Eobson,  John  Parselle,  Frederick 
Eobinson,  Eben  Plympton,  Fanny  Morant, 
Mna  Varian,  and  others,  and  the  opening 
was  November  23, 1875.  The  play  ran  al- 
most throughout  the  season. 

Mr.  John  Parselle  was  the  stage-manager 
of  the  theater.  I  had  never  met  him  be- 
fore, but  I  knew  that  he  had  been  for  many 
years  in  London,  at  the  Haymarket,  the 
Lyceum,  and  the  Adelphi.  He  came  to 
America  with  Mr.  Charles  Wyndham,  and 
he  acted  for  a  season  with  Mrs.  John  Drew, 
at  the  Arch  Street  Theater,  Philadelphia, 
previous  to  joining  Mr.  Palmer's  forces. 
I  also  knew  that  he  hailed  from  Glasgow. 
I  had,  therefore,  no  hesitation  in  speedily 
making  myself  known  to  him.  We  be- 
came fast  friends  and  companions,  and  re- 
mained so  until  his  death.  He  was  a  rare 
scholar,  a  linguist  of  great  ability,  an  au- 
thority on  all  matters  of  disputed  pro- 
nunciation. He  had  been  a  teacher  of 
languages  in  Glasgow,  but,  like  Alexander 
and  my  father,  became  stage-struck  and 
172 


Charles  R.  Thorne,  Jr.,  as  Count  De  Vernay  in  "  Rose  Michel.' 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

entered  the  profession.  He  had  married 
a  Scotch  lassie  and  had  a  large  family,  all 
of  his  children  having  been  born  in  Lon- 
don. "Jeannie,"  as  he  used  to  call  his 
wife,  was  the  most  simple  and  lovable 
woman  that  could  be  imagined.  She  did 
not  join  her  husband  for  two  years  after 
his  coming  to  America,  and  Parselle  would 
often  tell  me  that  although  he  had  been 
so  many  years  in  London,  his  wife  knew 
little  or  nothing  about  theaters,  always 
remaining  at  home  looking  after  the 
"bairns."  She  had  a  lovely  Scotch  accent 
that  I  delighted  to  hear.  When  her  hus- 
band was  acting,  and  I  happened  to  be 
out  of  the  performance,  he  would  some- 
times ask  me  to  escort  "Jeannie"  to  the 
theater,  and  I  frequently  did  so.  She  had 
seen  so  little  of  acting  that  it  was  most 
amusing  to  hear  her  comments  upon  the 
play.  "Mr.  Stoddart,"  she  would  say,  "I 
never  like  the  fellow  that  plays  the  villain. 
I  ken  him  the  moment  he  comes  oot  on 
the  stage,  and  I  hate  him  a'  through  the 
performance.  There  is  one  guid  thing, 
however :  the  fellow  always  gets  his  de- 
173 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

serts  at  the  end."  All  her  children  were 
left  in  London  when  she  and  her  husband 
came  to  America,  having  grown  up  and 
settled  there.  She  used  to  give  me  a  full 
description  of  them,  but  the  youngest, 
"  Chairley,"  she  would  say,  was  her  favorite. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Parselle  spent  a  short  time 
each  summer  with  us  at  our  country  place, 
which  was  a  pleasure  to  us,  for  Parselle 
was  a  splendid  companion,  filled  to  the 
brim  with  Scotch  anecdote  and  reminis- 
cence. 

Mr.  Palmer,  during  his  career  as  mana- 
ger of  the  Union  Square  Theater,  was  ac- 
customed to  send  his  company,  almost 
annually,  to  Chicago  and  Boston  at  the 
conclusion  of  the  metropolitan  season,  and 
many  times  he  extended  the  tour  as  far  as 
the  Pacific  coast.  I  visited  California 
twelve  times  under  his  management,  and 
in  all  that  time  Parselle  and  myself  were 
inseparable  companions,  living  at  the  same 
hotel  and  taking  daily  strolls  together. 
He  and  his  wife  made  a  complete  confi- 
dant of  me,  telling  me  all  their  plans— 
how  they  had,  in  their  frugal  Scotch  way, 
174 


KECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

saved  a  modest  competence  at  the  price 
of  much  privation  and  discomfort,  and  how 
they  looked  forward  to  the  day  when  Par- 
selle  should  retire  from  the  stage,— which 
he  intended  to  do  when  he  reached  the  age 
of  sixty,— and  that  they  would  then  pass 
the  rest  of  their  lives  in  peace  on  the 
fruits  of  their  labor.  Alas !  their  hopes 
were  never  to  be  realized,  for  shortly  after 
they  had  paid  their  last  visit  to  us  in  the 
country  I  received  a  telegram  from  Par- 
selle  saying  :  "  Jeannie  is  dead."  Not  long 
afterward  Parselle  himself  was  taken  seri- 
ously ill  on  Sixth  Avenue,  was  hurriedly 
placed  in  a  carriage,  and  died  before  reach- 
ing his  home.  Sheridan  Shook,  James  W. 
Collier,  and  I  followed  his  remains  to 
Greenwood,  where  he  was  buried  beside 
his  companion,  his  "Jeannie." 

My  long  career  with  Mr.  Palmer  brought 
me  many  pleasant  friendships.  Our  fre- 
quent trips  to  the  Pacific  coast  threw  us 
all  so  much  together  that  our  association 
necessarily  became  intimate,  lasting  as  they 
did  for  a  week  at  a  time  on  board  the  cars, 
and  we  grew  thus  to  know  one  another 
175 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYEK 

more  thoroughly  than  we  ordinarily  should 
have  done  in  an  acquaintance  of  several 
seasons  in  a  theater.  We  always  had  our 
own  private  car,  and  the  humblest  person 
employed  was  treated,  as  far  as  the  com- 
forts of  travel  were  concerned,  in  the  same 
manner  as  were  the  principals.  The  jour- 
ney across  the  continent  thus  became  a 
thing  to  be  desired  rather  than  an  experi- 
ence to  be  avoided.  During  the  journey 
we  would  pass  the  time  in  telling  stories, 
in  singing  songs,  playing  cards,  etc.,  and 
on  one  occasion  when  we  made  the  trip 
with  the  company  that  was  to  present 
"Alabama,"  we  had  with  us  a  colored 
quartet  that  was  engaged  to  sing  during 
the  performance,  and  these  vocalists  much 
enlivened  the  hours  by  their  negro  melo- 
dies, delighting  not  only  our  own  members, 
but  others,  who  were  eager  listeners  along 
the  route. 

My  first  trip  to  California  had  been 
made  in  1878.  While  I  was  in  Chicago 
with  the  Union  Square  Company  I  re- 
ceived an  offer  from  the  Baldwin  Theater, 
at  San  Francisco,  to  go  there  and  play  two 
176 


Henry  James  Montague. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYEK 

weeks  in  "The  Long  Strike."  At  that 
time  they  had  a  very  strong  stock  com- 
pany, headed  by  James  O'Neill.  James  A. 
Herne  and  F.  F.  Mackay  were  also  mem- 
bers. Mr.  H.  J.  Montague  had  been  act- 
ing in  " Diplomacy"  at  the  California 
Theater,  and  had  made  a  great  hit,  play- 
ing to  enormous  business.  He  was  com- 
pelled to  retire  from  the  cast  for  a  time, 
having  taken  cold,  as  he  supposed ;  but 
his  illness  proved  to  be  a  serious  malady. 
As,  during  his  absence,  the  receipts  of  the 
theater  had  greatly  diminished,  he  deter- 
mined, against  the  advice  of  his  physician, 
to  play  again.  Many  think  his  reappear- 
ance was  the  cause  of  his  death ;  whether 
or  no  that  was  the  case,  certain  it  is  that 
he  died  suddenly  soon  after.  His  death 
was  a  great  shock  to  the  members  of  his 
company,  and  one  of  them,  Mr.  J.  W. 
Shannon,  told  me  that  although  it  had 
been  arranged  to  leave  Montague  in  San 
Francisco  when  the  company  returned 
East,  a  short  time  before  his  death  he  had 
said  in  the  most  cheerful  way :  "Boys,  I 
am  not  to  be  left ;  the  doctor  says  I  can  go 

12 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEK 

home  with  you."  Poor  fellow,  he  never 
did.  We  were  playing  "Dearer  than  Life  " 
at  the  Baldwin  Theater,  and  just  as  the 
performance  was  closing,  some  one  came 
and  told  us  that  Montague  was  no  more. 
I  dressed  as  quickly  as  I  could  and  hur- 
rie,d  to  the  Palace  Hotel,  where  he  had 
been  living.  There  I  was  shown  into  his 
room.  A  sad  sight  indeed  !  All  the  mem- 
bers of  his  company  were  in  deep  grief, 
surrounding  the  body,  which  was  stretched 
upon  a  long  table,  with  photographs  of  his 
mother  and  sister  placed  at  either  side  of 
his  head. 

Montague  was  one  of  the  most  charming 
men  I  ever  knew.  I  had  met  him  some 
years  before  in  New  York.  Mr.  Boucicault 
had  contemplated  a  reproduction  of  "The 
Flying  Scud,"  and  wanted  me  to  play  in  it. 
I  went  to  see  him  at  the  Fifth  Avenue 
Hotel,  and  Montague  was  with  him.  This 
was  before  he  had  played  in  America.  I 
was  introduced  to  him,  and  although  few 
words  were  exchanged  between  us,  I  was 
immediately  impressed  by  his  frank  and 
courteous  bearing.  I  had  never  before 
178 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

met  one  possessing  so  delightful  a  per- 
sonality. When  I  saw  him  stretched  out 
in  his  lonely  room  at  the  hotel  in  San 
Francisco,  away  from  all  his  relatives,  I 
could  not  help  thinking  of  that  other  day 
when  I  had  first  seen  him  in  New  York, 
a  bright  and  handsome  youth. 

My  two  weeks'  engagement  concluded, 
I  returned  East  to  begin  my  season  at  the 
Union  Square.  I  had  thought  that  my 
first  visit  to  California  would  be  my  last ; 
but  I  have  since  visited  there  so  often 
that  I  think  I  have  become  as  well 
known  there,  probably,  as  in  New  York. 

"Ferreol "  was  produced  after  the  run 
of  "Rose  Michel,"  March  21, 1876,  and  was 
cast  to  the  full  strength  of  the  company, 
including  Thome,  Robson,  Parselle,  Robin- 
son, and  Miss  Kate  Claxton.  It  was  in 
this  play  that  Miss  Maude  Harrison  made 
her  first  appearance  at  the  Union  Square 
Theater.  I  was  cast  for  the  part  of  Mar- 
tial, a  gamekeeper,  another  murderer. 
The  play— I  thought  a  fine  one— did  not 
run  the  remainder  of  the  season,  but  was 
followed,  May  9,  by  "Conscience,"  which 
179 


KECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYER 

held  the  stage  until  June  9.  In  this  ap- 
peared Thorne,  Charles  A.  Stevenson,  Par- 
selle,  Stoddart,  Miss  Claxton,  and  Mrs. 
Wilkins.  In  "Miss  Multon"  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  playing  a  part  which  had  some 
very  good  scenes  with  Mrs.  "Wilkins.  I 
remembered  her  as  the  leading  lady  for 
two  or  three  seasons  with  Alexander  in 
Glasgow.  She  was  then  a  Mrs.  John  Dale, 
very  handsome  and  clever.  Mr.  Dale  was 
the  leading  man.  After  his  death  she 
married  Serveant  Wilkins,  a  famous  law- 
yer in  London.  One  of  her  favorite  parts 
was  the  Widow  Green  in  Knowles's  play  of 
"The  Lone  Chase."  I  have  often  heard 
her  tell  of  her  performance  of  that  part 
many  years  ago  in  London.  "Queen  Vic- 
toria," she  would  say,  "and  Prince  Albert 
were  in  their  box  one  evening  when  I 
was  playing  the  Widow  Green,  and  the 
Queen  said  to  the  Prince,  'Now,  Albert, 
pay  attention,  for  here  comes  our  Widow 
Green.' "  Mrs.  Wilkins  was  very  fond  of 
repeating  this  experience,  and  having 
heard  it  so  frequently,  her  associates 
rather  dreaded  its  repetition. 
180 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF  A  PLAYER 

"Miss  Multon  "  was  produced  November 
28, 1876,  with  Clara  Morris  in  the  principal 
part.  Sara  Jewett,  Mrs.  Wilkins,  Miss  Bi- 
jou Her r on,  James  O'Neill,  John  Parselle, 
Stoddart,  and  others  were  in  the  cast. 
The  indisposition  of  Miss  Morris  caused  her 
to  withdraw  for  a  portion  of  the  run,  Char- 
lotte Thompson  and  Katharine  Rogers 
each  taking  her  place  during  her  absence. 
The  play  was  a  great  success.  At  this 
time  Charles  Thorne,  Claude  Burroughs, 
Harry  Murdock,  and  Miss  Claxton,  to- 
gether with  other  members  of  the  com- 
pany, not  being  in  the  cast,  were  sent  to 
Brooklyn  to  give  some  performances  of 
"The  Two  Orphans."  After  the  perform- 
ance of  "Miss  Multon,"  December  5, 1876, 
as  I  was  on  my  way  home,  I  noticed,  while 
crossing  the  ferry  between  New  York  and 
Jersey  City,  a  great  conflagration  lighting 
up  the  sky.  Living  as  I  did  in  the  coun- 
try, the  news  did  not  reach  me  until  late 
the  next  day  that  the  Brooklyn  Theater 
had  been  destroyed  by  fire,  with  a  dread- 
ful loss  of  life.  Mr.  Palmer  had  a  numer- 
ous company,  and  frequently  sent  those 
181 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

members  not  employed  to  Brooklyn.  A 
short  time  before  the  fire,  I,  with  other 
members,  had  played  there  in  "The  Long 
Strike."  "The  Two  Orphans"  was  pro- 
duced before  I  joined  the  company,  so  that 
I  was  not  in  the  cast,  and  thus  escaped 
being  in  the  theater  at  the  time  of  the  fire. 
I  knew  Murdock  slightly  and  Burroughs 
intimately— an  honest  young  fellow.  They 
both  lost  their  lives  through  their  endeavor 
to  return  to  their  dressing-rooms  to  save 
some  of  their  property.  There  was  much 
grief  among  the  members  of  the  company 
at  the  untimely  end  of  these  two  members. 
My  contracts  with  Mr.  Palmer  at  first 
were  for  a  period  of  three  years  each.  I 
think  this  arrangement  was  renewed  three 
or  four  times,  until  Mr.  Palmer  said  that 
he  thought  formal  contracts  between  us 
were  unnecessary,  and  so  they  were  dis- 
continued. I  needed  no  written  docu- 
ments from  him  to  the  effect  that  he  would 
do  as  he  said  j  his  word  was  enough  for 
me.  I  always  tried,  during  my  long  ser- 
vice, to  be  as  honest  and  straightforward 
with  him. 

182 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEE 

"The  Danicheffs"  was  produced  in  1877 
—a  beautiful  play.  It  had  a  long  run  in 
New  York,  and  was  acted  for  a  consider- 
able time  in  Boston,  Philadelphia,  and 
Chicago  with  the  original  cast,  which 
comprised  Thome,  O'Neill,  Parselle,  S tod- 
dart,  Miss  Jewett,  Fanny  Morant,  Mrs. 
Wilkins,  and  others. 

I  had  not  met  Thorne  since  we  were 
together  in  minor  positions  with  Mrs.  John 
Wood,  at  which  time  we  dressed  together. 
He  was  a  young  chap  then,  without  posi- 
tion, but  was  handsome  and  so  full  of  fun 
that  it  led  him  to  constant  "guying."  I 
scarcely  ever  knew  when  to  take  him 
seriously— a  fact  that  seemed  to  amuse 
him  much.  He  stayed  a  short  time  with 
Mrs.  Wood,  going,  I  believe,  to  Boston, 
and  I  did  not  meet  him  again  until  we 
were  members  of  the  Union  Square.  At 
this  time  his  acting  had  become  striking. 
His  manner  was  subdued  and  he  had  an 
intensity  which  surprised  me.  I  do  not 
think  I  ever  saw  any  one  so  fine  in  certain 
parts.  He  could,  in  strong  situations,  be 
effective  and  forcible  without  resort  to 
183 


KECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEE 

shouting  or  ranting.  His  performances  in 
"The  Danicheffs"  and  in  "The  Banker's 
Daughter  "  were  fine  examples  of  his  ripe 
ability.  The  stage  suffered  a  serious  loss 
indeed  in  his  death. 

After  ^  the  run  of  "The  Danicheffs/' 
Thorne  and  other  members  of  the  com- 
pany were  sent  to  San  Francisco,  playing 
the  Union  Square  successes,  and  Charles 
Coghlan  came  to  us  at  the  home  theater. 
Before  his  appearance  we  produced  a  ver- 
sion of  "Nicholas  Mckleby"  entitled 
"Smike,"  Bijou  Herron  playing  Smilce,  Le 
Moyne  Squeers,  Boniface  John  Brody,  and 
I  Newman  Noggs.  The  play  ran  from  May 
7,  1877,  till  June  9,  and  was  successful. 

On  December  26,  1877,  "The  Man  of 
Success  "  was  produced.  The  cast  included 
Charles  Coghlan,  Parselle,  Agnes  Booth, 
Stoddart,  and  others  ;  a  fine  play,  but  not 
successful.  Mr.  Coghlan's  performance  I 
thought  most  artistic. 

On  January  23,  1878,  "A  Celebrated 
Case "  was  brought  out.  This  was  a  no- 
table production  and  had  a  long  and  pros- 
perous run.  It  enlisted  the  services  of 
184 


Charles  Coghlan. 


BECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

Charles  Coghlan,  Frank  Hardenbergh, 
Parselle,  Agnes  Booth,  Linda  Dietz,  Sara 
Jewett,  and  Mrs.  G.  H.  Gilbert.  I  played 
Sergeant  CPRourke.  I  have  reason  to  re- 
member this  character.  In  the  prologue 
I  had  a  scene  with  Mrs.  Booth,  who  played 
the  wife  of  Jean  Eenaud,  the  hero,  in  the 
course  of  which  she  was  supposed  to  give 
to  me,  as  the  Sergeant,  a  cup  of  wine,  which 
I  had  to  swallow.  It  so  happened  that  the 
property-man  had  been  using  kerosene  on 
the  stage  during  the  day,  and  had  left  the 
bottle  containing  that  liquid  upon  the 
dresser  where  Mrs.  Booth  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  finding  the  drink  for  the  Sergeant. 
During  the  business  she  poured  a  full  cup 
from  this  bottle,  handed  it  to  me,  and  I 
swallowed  the  contents  at  a  gulp.  "Oh, 
Lord ! "  I  said  as  I  received  the  potion. 
"What  have  I  done?"  said  Mrs.  Booth, 
under  her  breath.  I  could  only  gasp  out, 
"Kerosene  ! "  and  make  a  hasty  exit.  For 
almost  a  week  every  one  avoided  me, 
owing  to  the  presence  of  the  noxious 
fluid.  I  drank  such  a  quantity  that  the 
odor  and  taste  remained  with  me  until  I 
185 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

thought  I  should]never  be  rid  of  it.  Other- 
wise it  did  me  no  injury,  and  my  physi- 
cian even  said  that  it  did  me  good. 

There  is  quite  an  important  juvenile 
part  in  this  play,  and  Mr.  Palmer  had 
much  difficulty  in  finding  a  child  young 
enough,  and  yet  sufficiently  intelligent, 
to  play  it.  The  child  has  to  give  impor- 
tant evidence  concerning  the  innocence  or 
guilt  of  her  father,  who  is  accused  of  crime. 
For  some  days  we  had  all  sorts  of  mothers 
bringing  all  sorts  of  children,  who  after 
going  through  the  ordeal  of  a  rehearsal 
were  promptly  dismissed.  At  last  a  lady 
appeared  leading  a  wee  tot,  by  name  Eva 
French,  who  instantly  astonished  every- 
body. She  laid  aside  her  wrap  and  hat, 
and  pitched  in  with  such  confidence,  dis- 
playing such  ability,  that  it  immediately 
settled  the  question.  Mr.  Palmer  was  de- 
lighted. She  was  regularly  engaged,  and 
she  was  seen  afterward  in  many  parts,  such 
as  the  child  in  "The  Banker's  Daughter" 
and  the  little  waif  in  "The  Lights  o'  Lon- 
don." She  also  went  out  with  the  com- 
pany to  California,  and  remained  with  Mr. 
186 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYER 

Palmer  until  she  became  too  old  to  play 
children's  r61es.  In  all  our  travels  she 
proved  the  little  sunbeam  of  the  company. 
I  think  that  I  was  an  especial  favorite 
with  her,  for  during  our  trips  she  would 
sit  upon  my  knee  for  hours,  and  I  would 
make  up  little  Scotch  stories  to  amuse  her, 
and  as  I  would  finish  one  she  would  always 
promptly  demand  another. 

Years  afterward  I  was  playing  for  a 
charitable  benefit  in  "One  Touch  of  Na- 
ture "  at  the  Academy  of  Music,  and  after 
the  performance  the  doorkeeper  told  me 
that  there  were  two  ladies  outside  in- 
quiring for  me.  As  I  went  to  meet  them 
the  elder  one  said :  "Mr.  Stoddart,  I  sup- 
pose you  don't  remember  us.  I  am  Mrs. 
French,  and  this  is  Eva,  the  little  girl  who 
used  to  sit  on  your  knee  and  listen  to  your 
stories."  I  was  surprised  that  this  hand- 
some and  modish  young  woman  should  be 
the  little  child  who  had  once  been  a  mem- 
ber of  our  company,  the  "little  Eva"  of 
bygone  days. 

"The  Banker's  Daughter  "  was  produced 
at  the  Union  Square  November  30,  1878, 
187 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEK 

and  was  an  instantaneous  success.  It 
made  more  money  for  the  management,  I 
should  judge,  than  any  other  play  in  the 
annals  of  the  house,  and  yet  its  history  is 
a  strange  one.  When  Charles  Coghlan 
was  in  the  theater  Mr.  Palmer  thought  of 
doing  it,  so  it  was  read  to  us  in  the  green- 
room, then  being  called  "Lillian's  Last 
Love."  I  remember  Coghlan  saying  he 
thought  it  the  greatest  trash  he  had  ever 
heard.  Mr.  Palmer,  I  presume,  had  no 
great  opinion  of  it,  either,  as,  after  the 
reading,  nothing  more  was  heard  of  it  for 
a  long  time.  In  due  course,  however,  it 
turned  up  again,  under  the  title  of  "The 
Banker's  Daughter."  Mr.  Palmer  set  A. 
K.  Cazauran  to  work  upon  it  with  a  view 
to  its  improvement.  Mr.  Cazauran's  posi- 
tion in  the  theater  was  that  of  a  recon- 
structor,  and  his  business  to  alter  and 
endeavor  to  improve  plays,  and  he  did 
some  effective  alteration  on  this  piece,  so 
it  was  fortunate  that  it  was  not  produced 
in  its  original  form.  I  was  always  a  great 
admirer  of  Charles  Coghlan's  artistic  abil- 
ity, but  I  doubt  if  any  one  could  have 
188 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

equaled  Thome's  performance  of  John 
Strebelow  in  this  play.  Miss  Sara  Jewett 
was  charming  as  Lillian.  In  those  days 
Miss  Jewett  was  most  delightful  in  all  that 
she  undertook.  Often,  in  going  home  after 
the  performance  on  the  Pennsylvania  Rail- 
road, I  have  heard  the  young  men  who  had 
been  to  the  theater  loud  in  their  praises 
of  Miss  Jewett.  How  sweet,  how  ladylike, 
she  was  !  Miss  Maude  Harrison  also  made 
a  great  hit  as  Mrs.  Brown,  as  likewise  did 
Joe  Polk  in  Phipps.  Le  Moyne,  Lingham, 
the  late  Walden  Ramsey,  and  myself  were 
in  the  original  cast. 

"Lost  Children"  was  next  produced, 
April  17,  1879,  and  it  ran  until  May  17. 
It  was  magnificently  staged,  but  it  turned 
out  a  comparative  failure. 

The  season  of  1879  was  opened  with  a 
production  of  "French  Flats,"  a  farce,  and 
different  from  any  of  the  pieces  heretofore 
done  at  the  Union  Square  ;  we  were  there- 
fore curious  to  see  how  it  would  be  re- 
ceived. The  theater  was  closed  for  a  dress 
rehearsal  on  the  Monday  of  the  week  set 
for  its  production.  Mr.  Palmer,  with  a 
189 


EECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

few  others,  were  in  front,  and  not  only  our 
manager  but  all  his  company  were  de- 
pressed at  the  effect  of  this  rehearsal.  In 
fact,  the  night  was  funereal.  We  produced 
this  play  Tuesday,  October  21,  and,  con- 
trary to  our  expectations,  it  was  received 
with  much  favor,  so  that  it  ran  for  over 
one  hundred  nights,  and  went  with  roars 
of  laughter.  I  had  one  scene  to  enact 
which  afterward  was  known  as  my  "bro- 
ken-up  scene."  I  was  supposed  to  have 
had  an  encounter  with  a  jealous  opera- 
singer,— played  by  Joe  Polk,— and  had  to 
come  on  in  a  most  disheveled  condition. 
The  situation  caused  the  longest  continu- 
ous laughter  I  ever  heard. 

"The  False  Friend  "  was  put  on  January 
21,  1880,  and  held  the  stage  until  March 
20.  It  was  a  fine  play.  Mr.  Thome,  who 
played  the  "false  friend,"  gave  an  excel- 
lent performance ;  but  his  attractiveness 
in  the  part  rather  upset  the  motive  of  the 
play,  for  the  virtuous  young  man  of  the 
piece,  although  supposed  to  be  entitled  to 
it,  got  little  sympathy  from  the  audience, 
so  natural  and  effective  was  Thome's  act- 
190 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

ing.  Most  of  the  principal  members  were 
cast  in  the  play— Harry  Courtaine,  Par- 
selle,  Mrs.  Phillips,  Sara  Jewett,  Maude 
Harrison,  Stoddart,  and  others. 

"Daniel  Rochat"  was  produced  October 
15,  1880,  and  ran  until  December  14. 
Thome  in  the  title  r61e  and  Miss  Jewett 
as  Leah  each  contributed  a  notable  per- 
formance. The  other  parts  afforded  fine 
opportunities,  and  were  well  played  by  the 
principal  members  of  the  company.  This 
play,  which  is  religious  in  its  character, 
concerns  itself  with  the  struggle  between 
the  disciple  of  agnosticism,  Daniel  Bochat, 
and  the  Christian  as  depicted  by  Leah, 
and  it  caused  considerable  discussion  among 
clergymen  as  well  as  laity.  We  performed 
it  in  San  Francisco,  and  when  there  the 
rector  of  Grace  Church  and  the  members 
of  his  vestry  came  to  see  it.  I  forget  the 
clergyman's  name,  but  we  all  received  in- 
vitations to  attend  his  church  on  the  Sun- 
day following  his  visit  to  the  theater. 
These  invitations  were  addressed,  not  to 
us  by  name,  but  to  the  characters  we  repre- 
sented, mine,  I  remember,  reading  "To 
191 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF   A   PLAYEE 

Dr.  Bidache,"  which  was  my  name  in  the 
play. 

I  availed  myself  of  it,  as  he  said  in  his 
note  that  it  was  his  intention  to  make  a 
few  remarks  by  way  of  comment  on  the 
play.  After  hearing  him  I  was  glad  that 
I  had  attended.  He  spoke  of  the  great 
literary  merit  of  the  play,  and  how  ably 
the  argument  between  the  Christian  and 
the  free-thinker  was  handled  by  the 
author.  He  also  drew  our  attention  to 
what  each  had  done  for  the  benefit  of  the 
world.  The  agnostic's  religion  claimed, 
he  said,  to  benefit  his  fellow-man.  He 
then  went  on  to  point  out  that  all  institu- 
tions of  a  charitable  nature  everywhere 
are  undoubtedly  the  work  of  the  church, 
and  owe  their  life  and  origin  to  Christi- 
anity, which  is  truly  the  case.  He  con- 
cluded by  saying  that  he  was  almost  as 
much  interested,  when  at  the  theater,  in 
the  demeanor  of  the  spectators  as  in  the 
performance  itself,  and  was  much  gratified 
to  notice  that  all  the  approbation  and  all 
the  sympathy  of  the  people  were  gained 
by  the  Christian  girl.  His  remarks  laid 
192 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

such  hold  on  me  that  on  every  future  oc- 
casion, when  I  visited  San  Francisco,  I 
regularly  took  my  place  in  Grace  Church. 

"Daniel  Rochat"  was  followed  by  a  re- 
vival of  "The  Banker's  Daughter"  on 
December  15  of  that  year ;  it  was  played  for 
about  a  month,  "The  Creole  "  being  pro- 
duced January  16,  1881,  and  continuing 
until  February  7.  A  revival  of  "The 
Danicheffs  "  followed  on  February  8,  last- 
ing until  February  26.  "Felicia;  or,  A 
Woman's  Love,"  with  Miss  Rose  Eytinge 
in  the  principal  part,  was  brought  out  on 
February  28,  and  played  until  April  22, 
ending  that  season. 

The  next  season  opened  with  "The 
Lights  o'  London,"  December  5,  1881. 
This  was  a  wonderful  scenic  production, 
considering  the  limited  stage  room  of  the 
theater.  Mr.  Cathcart,  Wilson  Barrett's 
stage-manager,  who  had  been  the  producer 
of  the  play  in  London,  came  to  America 
and  directed  the  rehearsals  at  the  Union 
Square.  The  piece  was  a  great  success, 
running  throughout  the  entire  season,  to 
large  business.  Its  New  York  success  was 
13  193 


BECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYEK 

duplicated  in  Chicago,  San  Francisco,  and 
all  the  important  cities  of  the  country.  The 
production  enlisted  the  entire  strength  of 
the  company— Thome,  Frederic  De  Belle- 
ville, Parselle,  H.  J.  Montgomery,  Kam- 
sey,  Sara  Jewett,  Maude  Harrison,  Eleanor 
Carey,  Mrs.  Wilkins,  little  Eva  French, 
and  many  lesser  lights,  together  with 
crowds  of  supers.  I  shall  not  soon  forget 
the  part  I  played.  I  was  cast  for  another 
villain,  Seth  Preene  by  name,  and  in  one 
scene  it  was  my  ill  fortune  to  be  thrown, 
by  the  "gentleman  villain"  of  the  play, 
from  London  Bridge  into  the  Thames  be- 
neath. To  say  the  least,  it  was  anything 
but  a  pleasant  sensation,  this  being  hurled 
backward  from  the  rail  of  the  bridge,  a 
distance  of  possibly  fifteen  or  twenty  feet 
from  the  level  of  the  stage.  The  supposed 
water  consisted  of  gauze  set  pieces  running 
across  the  stage,  between  the  lines  of  which 
was  an  open  trap  with  a  feather-bed  at 
the  bottom  of  it  to  receive  me  as  I  fell. 
I  considered  myself  very  fortunate  if  in 
my  backward  fall  from  the  bridge  to  this 
bed  I  met  with  no  obstruction.  In  order 
194 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEB 

to  guide  myself  I  was  in  the  habit  of  fas- 
tening a  string  to  the  rail  of  the  bridge  at 
a  point  exactly  over  the  open  trap,  and  in 
my  struggle  with  the  villain  I  used  to  con- 
trive so  that  I  should  fall  from  this  posi- 
tion. I  remember  little  Eva  French  would 
usually  come  to  me  before  the  scene  and 
report  that  she  had  seen  the  string  in  its 
proper  position.  Although  the  part  was 
a  fine  one,  and  I  enjoyed  it,  still,  what 
with  the  bruises  which  I  sustained  in 
my  fall,  and  the  additional  discomfort  of 
occasionally  having  my  eyes  and  mouth 
full  of  salt  (which  they  threw  from  be- 
neath the  stage  as  I  fell,  to  indicate  the 
spray  of  the  water),  I  was  not  altogether 
sorry  when  I  dropped  the  acquaintance 
of  Seth  Preene. 

We  opened  in  Chicago  after  our  New 
York  season,  playing  a  long  and  very  suc- 
cessful engagement,  and  presenting  only 
the  one  play,  "The  Lights  o'  London." 
After  Chicago  the  company  started  to 
San  Francisco,  where  the  piece  was  also 
highly  successful.  We  returned  to  open 
the  season  of  1882  at  the  Union  Square 
195 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYER 

with  "The  Rantzaus."  Mr.  Palmer  had 
seen  the  play  in  Paris,  and  was  so  pleased 
with  it  that  he  secured  the  rights  for 
America.  He  also  had  all  the  dresses  made 
abroad  in  exact  duplication  of  the  original 
ones.  "The  Rantzaus  "  is  a  beautiful  pas- 
toral play  :  it  vividly  portrays  the  hatred 
of  two  brothers  and  the  love  of  their  two 
children  for  each  other ;  the  final  recon- 
ciliation between  the  brothers  is  effec- 
tively brought  about.  The  brothers  were 
played  in  Paris  by  Coquelin  and  Got. 
John  Parselle  and  I  were  the  originals  in 
New  York.  The  production  was  a  de- 
cided artistic  success ;  financially,  many 
of  Mr.  Palmer's  productions  proved  more 
desirable. 

"The  Parisian  Romance  "  was  produced 
on  January  12,  1883.  Baron  Chevrial,  a 
strong  and  peculiar  part,  has  since  become 
well  known  as  one  of  Mr.  Richard  Mans- 
field's strong  impersonations.  The  pecu- 
liar attributes  of  the  part  caused  Mr. 
Palmer  some  doubt,  for  a  time,  as  to  a  cor- 
rect and  judicious  cast  for  it.  Mr.  Mans- 
field had  been  engaged,  but  as  he  was 
196 


John  Parselle. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

comparatively  untried  in  legitimate  work, 
his  position  in  the  theater  was  thought  to 
be  a  minor  one.  After  the  reading  of  the 
play  the  company  were  unanimous  in 
their  opinion  that  "The  Parisian  Ro- 
mance "  was  a  one-part  piece,  and  that  part 
the  Baron,  and  all  the  principals  had  their 
eye  on  him.  After  some  delay  and  much 
expectancy  the  r61e  was  given  to  me.  I 
was  playing  a  strong  part  in  "The  Rant- 
zaus,"  and  my  friends  in  the  company  con- 
gratulated me  upon  the  opportunity  thus 
presented  of  following  it  up  with  so  poVer- 
ful  a  successor.  Miss  Minnie  Conway,  who 
was  a  member  of  the  company  and  had 
seen  the  play  in  Paris,  said  that  she  thought 
the  Baron  a  strange  part  to  give  to  me. 
"It 's  a  Lester  Wallack  kind  of  part,"  she 
said. 

This  information  rather  disconcerted 
me,  but  I  rehearsed  the  part  for  about  a 
week,  and  then,  being  convinced  that  it 
did  not  suit  me,  I  went  to  Mr.  Palmer  and 
told  him  I  felt  very  doubtful  as  to  whether 
I  could  do  him  or  myself  justice  in  it.  He 
would  not  hear  of  my  giving  it  up,  saying 
197 


EECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYEK 

that  he  knew  me  better  than  I  did  myself ; 
that  I  was  always  doubtful ;  but  that  he 
was  willing  to  take  the  risk.  He  also  read 
a  letter  which  he  had  received  from  some 
one  in  Paris  giving  advice  regarding  the 
production,  in  which,  among  other  things, 
it  was  said  that  Baron  Chevrial  was  the 
principal  part,  that  everything  depended 
on  him,  and  that  "if  you  can  get  Stoddart 
to  look  well  in  full  dress,  he  is  the  man 
you  must  have  to  play  it." 

I  left  Mr.  Palmer,  resolved  to  try  again, 
and  do  my  best.  Mr.  Mansfield  was  cast 
in  the  play  for  a  small  part,  and,  I  dis- 
covered, was  watching  me  like  a  cat  during 
rehearsals.  A  lot  of  fashion-plates  were 
sent  to  my  dressing-room,  with  instructions 
to  select  my  costume.  As  I  had  hitherto 
been,  for  some  time,  associated  with  vaga- 
bonds, villains,  etc.,  I  think  these  fashion- 
plates  had  a  tendency  to  unnerve  me  more 
than  anything  else.  So  I  again  went  to 
Mr.  Palmer  and  told  him  I  could  not  pos- 
sibly play  the  Baron.  "You  must,"  said 
Mr.  Palmer.  "I  rather  think  Mr.  Mans- 
field must  have  suspected  something  of 
198 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

the  sort,  for  lie  has  been  to  me  asking,  in 
the  event  of  your  not  playing  it,  that  I  give 
it  to  him.  I  have  never  seen  Mr.  Mans- 
field act ;  he  has  not  had  much  experience 
here,  and  might  ruin  the  production." 

At  Mr.  Palmer's  earnest  solicitation,  I 
promised  to  try  it  again.  I  had  by  this 
time  worked  myself  into  such  a  state  of 
nervousness  that  my  wife  interfered.  "All 
the  theaters  in  the  world,"  said  she,  "are 
not  worth  what  you  are  suffering.  Go  and 
tell  Mr.  Palmer  you  positively  cannot  play 
the  part."  Fearing  the  outcome,  I  did  not 
risk  another  interview  with  my  manager, 
but  sought  out  Mr.  Cazauran,  and  returned 
the  part  to  him,  with  a  message  to  Mr. 
Palmer  that  I  positively  declined  to 
play  it. 

The  result  was  that  Mr.  Mansfield  was 
put  in  my  place.  He  rehearsed  the  part 
next  day,  and,  with  only  a  brief  time  for 
study  and  few  rehearsals,  made  his  appear- 
ance in  it  on  January  10,  1883.  The 
result  is  well  known.  His  success  was  in- 
stantaneous and  emphatic— so  much  so 
that  from  then  until  now  Baron  Chevricd 
199 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

has  remained  one  of  his  strongest  embodi- 
ments. Mr.  Palmer  was  delighted,  and 
I  consoled  myself  with  the  thought  that 
my  refusal  of  the  part  had  proved  not 
only  far  better  for  the  interests  of  the 
production,  but  was  also  the  immediate 
cause  of  giving  an  early  opportunity  to 
one  who  has  since  done  much  for  the  stage. 

During  the  run  of  "The  Parisian  Ro- 
mance" Mr.  Palmer  engaged  some  extra 
people,  and  Miss  Sara  Jewett  and  I  were 
sent  to  the  old  Windsor  Theater  in  the 
Bowery  to  give  performances  of  "The 
Long  Strike,"  after  which  we  played  it  at 
the  Broadway  Theater,  also  in  Newark 
and  other  cities.  The  Union  Square  season 
ending,  we  started  again  on  our  annual 
tour  for  the  summer  months,  playing  in 
Boston,  Chicago,  Denver,  Salt  Lake  City, 
and  San  Francisco.  Mr.  Mansfield  was 
now  a  regular  member  of  the  company, 
and  accompanied  us. 

I  had  expected  upon  my  first  visit  to 
the  Pacific  coast  that  I  should  not  find 
many  to  whom  I  was  professionally  famil- 
iar. So  I  was  somewhat  surprised  on  this 
200 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

trip,  while  walking  in  Market  Street  one 
afternoon,  to  hear  a  gentleman  remark  to 
his  companion,  in  passing  :  "Why,  there  's 
old  Stoddart."  Evidently  old  New-York- 
ers, and  familiar  with  the  old  days,  of  whom 
one  finds  many  throughout  the  country. 

Our  next  season  at  the  Union  Square 
began  with  Bartley  Campbell's  play  called 
"Separation,"  a  good  production  and  a 
long  run.  Charles  Coghlan  reappeared, 
and  the  cast  also  included  Parselle,  Joseph 
Whiting,  Felix  Morris,  Eleanor  Carey, 
Maud  Harrison,  Effie  Ellsler,  Mrs.  Phillips, 
Stoddart,  etc.  When  "Separation"  had 
run  its  course  Mr.  Coghlan  left  the  com- 
pany, and  it  was  our  last  professional 
meeting.  I  don't  know  that  I  ever  met 
an  actor  that  I  admired  more.  During 
the  run  of  "A  Celebrated  Case  "  I  had  fre- 
quent long  talks  with  him.  He  was  kind 
enough  to  speak  well  of  my  efforts  on  more 
than  one  occasion.  I  knew  he  was  sincere, 
so  regarded  it  as  a  compliment.  "Appro- 
bation from  Sir  Hubert  Stanley  is  praise 
indeed."  He  would  tell  me  of  his  London 
career :  of  his  association  with  George 
201 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

Hovey,  whom  I  had  met  in  my  young 
days  in  Scotland  ;  of  Tom  Eobertson  ;  and 
of  the  delightful  productions  at  Marie 
Wilton's  Theater.  Poor  fellow  !  A  rare 
actor  and  a  thorough  gentleman— what  a 
pity  to  be  cut  off  so  suddenly  while  still  in 
his  vigor  !  During  this  season  Mr.  Palmer 
went  abroad,  and  the  firm  of  Shook  & 
Collier,  composed  of  Sheridan  Shook  and 
James  W.  Collier,  took  possession  of  the 
theater.  They  retained  it  for  nearly  two 
seasons,  but  were  not  as  successful  as  they 
deserved  to  be.  Sheridan  Shook  had  long 
been  associated  with  the  theater.  He  was 
a  straightforward,  good-hearted  man,  bluff 
and  without  polish,  but  generous  to  a 
fault,  and  many  were  beholden  to  him 
for  frequent  kindnesses  that  never  became 
known.  It  was  my  privilege  to  be  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  him  in  those  days. 
»  During  Shook  &  Collier's  occupancy 
"  Storm  -beaten"  was  produced  in  fine  style. 
John  H.  Barnes— "Handsome  Jack,"  as  he 
was  called— was  brought  from  London  as 
leading  man.  "The  Prisoner  for  Life," 
the  next  production,  was  notable  for  its 
202 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYEK 

scenic  effects.  I  remember  poor  Sara 
Jewett  was  out  of  her  element  in  these 
lurid  melodramas ;  but  the  climax  of  her 
discomfort  was  reached  in  a  farcical  affair 
called  "  Three  Wives  to  One  Husband." 
There  was  in  this  a  noisy  burlesque  scene 
where  many  of  the  characters  were,  for 
some  purpose,  behaving  in  an  outrageous 
manner,  kicking  up  a  row  and  knocking 
the  furniture  about,  all  leading  up  to  some 
absurdly  comic  climax.  Poor  Miss  Jewett 
was  given  a  brass  coal-scuttle  and  pair  of 
tongs,  and  at  certain  cues  had  to  beat  upon 
the  scuttle  with  the  tongs  as  a  means  of 
augmenting  the  uproar.  I  was  at  her 
elbow  doing  something  equally  absurd, 
and  can  even  now  see  her  look  of  despair 
as  she  said  in  a  helpless  aside :  "Oh,  Mr. 
Stoddart,  after  what  we  have  seen  on  this 
stage!  Oh,"— bang,  bang!— "is  n't  this 
dreadful ! "  Miss  Jewett,  who  was  a  niece 
of  an  eminent  New  York  physician,  Dr. 
Flint,  had  a  charming  personality  and  was 
beloved  by  her  associates.  In  her  death 
the  stage  lost  a  popular  young  actress  and 
a  lady  of  culture  and  refinement. 
203 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

I  remained  with  Shook  &  Collier  until 
they  gave  up  the  theater  in  1884.  In  the 
meantime  Mr.  Palmer  had  returned  to 
America  and  assumed  the  management  of 
the  Madison  Square  Theater  in  Twenty- 
fourth  Street.  He  had  arranged  with  Mr. 
Henry  Arthur  Jones  to  bring  out  his  play 
of  "Saints  and  Sinners."  He  sent  for  me 
and  offered  me  an  engagement,  which  I 
accepted,  as  I  had  ascertained  from  Mr. 
Shook  that  he  meant  to  retire  from  the 
theatrical  business ;  so  I  signed  a  three 
years'  contract  with  Mr.  Palmer  for  the 
Madison  Square  Theater  Company.  Mr. 
Jones  had  come  from  London  personally 
to  direct  the  rehearsals  of  "Saints  and 
Sinners/'  and  read  the  play  to  the  com- 
pany. It  underwent  alteration  before  its 
production  in  New  York.  I  was  fortunate, 
in  joining  the  company  again,  to  meet  a 
number  of  old  associates.  Mrs.  Booth, 
Mrs.  Phillips,  Le  Moyne,  Robinson,  Frank 
Drew,  and  Davidge  were  old  friends ;  but 
Herbert  Kelcey,  Louis  Masson,  Miss  Annie 
Russell,  and  Marie  Burroughs  were  stran- 
gers to  me.  Miss  Burroughs  I  thought  a 
204 


Sara  Jewett. 


UNIVERSITY 

or 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

very  beautiful  woman.  I  remember  after 
the  reading  she  expressed  a  desire  to  play 
the  part  of  Lettie  Fletcher -,  the  minister's 
daughter  ;  but  being  at  that  time  almost  a 
novice,  she  was  afraid  that  she  would  not 
get  it,  that  Mr.  Jones  and  Mr.  Palmer 
would  hesitate  to  intrust  her  with  it. 
Other  ladies  of  more  experience  also  had 
an  eye  upon  the  part.  All  the  characters 
had  been  allotted  for  some  time  before  a 
selection  was  made  as  to  Lettie.  At  last 
Mr.  Masson,  a  member  of  the  company 
and  Miss  Burroughs's  husband,  was  given 
the  part,  one  evening,  and  told  that  his 
wife  was  to  play  it.  Masson  tells  the 
story  that  upon  reaching  home  he  found 
her  in  bed.  " Marie,"  he  said,  bursting 
into  the  room,  "I  have  good  news  for  you. 
You  play  Lettie  Fletcher.  Here  is  the  part." 
His  wife,  he  said,  jumped  out  of  bed  and 
danced  a  hornpipe  on  the  spot.  The  selec- 
tion was  certainly  a  good  one.  She  looked 
a  picture,  and,  moreover,  astonished  us  by 
the  intensity  of  her  acting.  A  friend  of 
mine,  on  witnessing  the  performance  with 
Kelcey  as  the  attractive  villain  making 
205 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

love  to  Miss  Burroughs,  cried  enthusias- 
tically, "Are  n't  they  a  handsome  pair?  I 
know  he  is  a  villain,  but  I  believe  I  would 
run  away  with  him  myself."  The  piece 
was  finely  cast.  Le  Moyne  gave  a  splendid 
performance  as  Hoggard,  as  did  also  E.  M. 
Holland  as  Lot  Burden,  while  Davidge, 
Drew,  Flockton,  and  Mrs.  Phillips  were 
each  admirable.  I  felt  quite  at  home  in 
the  character  of  Jacob  Fletcher,  the  min- 
ister, and  was  much  gratified  in  receiving 
from  Mr.  Jones  a  complimentary  letter 
saying  the  production  in  America  sur- 
passed that  given  in  London. 

The  Madison  Square  Theater  at  that 
time  was  fitted  with  a  practical  or  double 
stage,  the  invention  of  Steele  Mackaye, 
which  worked  upon  the  elevator  principle. 
As  each  act  ended,  one  stage  descended  and 
the  other,  that  had  been  set  for  the  next  act, 
came  down  and  took  its  place,  thus  obvi- 
ating the  necessity  of  long  waits.  One  eve- 
ning, during  the  most  pathetic  scene  of  the 
play, — that  in  which  the  minister  hears  of 
his  daughter's  flight, — when  I  was  plunged 
in  the  deepest  grief,  by  some  mistake  of 
206 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

the  carpenter  the  stage  upon  which  we  were 
acting  began  to  descend,  and  it  continued 
to  do  so  until  only  my  head  and  shoulders 
were  visible  to  the  audience.  I  kept  up 
my  grief,  however,  until  the  mistake  was 
rectified,  and  by  the  time  I  had  reached 
the  climax  the  stage  was  in  its  proper 
position.  Of  course  the  seriousness  of  the 
situation  was  done  for.  The  other  mem- 
bers seemed  to  enjoy  it  all  from  the  wings 
quite  as  much  as  did  the  audience  ;  I  think 
I  was  the  only  one  who  did  not  see  the 
joke.  The  play  had  a  prosperous  run,  and 
at  the  end  of  the  season  Mr.  Palmer  re- 
peated his  former  policy  of  taking  the 
company  on  tour  to  other  cities,  extend- 
ing the  trip  to  San  Francisco.  All  the 
principals,  including  Kelcey,  Masson,  Le 
Moyne,  Davidge,  Miss  Russell,  and  myself, 
were  among  the  members.  We  were  sent 
this  time  by  a  different  route,  the  Rio 
Grande,  which  was  then,  I  believe,  a  nar- 
row-gage road.  I  shall  always  remember 
the  beauty  of  the  scenery  along  this  jour- 
ney, much  more  beautiful  and  romantic,  I 
think,  than  that  visible  along  the  route  of 
207 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

the  Central  Pacific.  In  some  respects  it 
was  not  so  pleasant,  for,  owing  to  the  high 
altitude  at  portions  of  the  journey,  the 
lightness  of  the  air  caused  some  discom- 
fort among  the  ladies.  Miss  Burroughs 
and  Miss  Russell  were  particularly  af- 
fected, even  to  the  point  of  fainting  dead 
away  and  being  picked  up  like  babies  and 
carried  to  their  berths.  We  played  in  San 
Francisco  first  this  year,  stopping  at  Sacra- 
mento, Salt  Lake,  Denver,  Omaha,  and 
other  cities  on  our  return  trip. 

In  Chicago  "The  Martyr"  was  pro- 
duced, and  also  "  Jim  the  Penman."  The 
first  was  a  moderate  success,  the  latter  a 
tremendous  one.  The  same  fortune  at- 
tended both  plays  when  produced  in  New 
York :  "The  Martyr  "  did  very  little,  while 
"Jim  the  Penman"  ran  the  season.  It 
was  a  very  easy  time  for  me,  as  I  was  not 
cast  in  the  latter  play.  I  was  living  in 
the  country,  and  for  an  entire  season  came 
into  the  city  only  once  a  week,  and  that 
on  salary  day.  Thus  my  position  was 
quite  a  sinecure,  and  although  it  was  not 
altogether  a  pleasant  reflection  that  I  was 
208 


RECOLLECTIOKS   OF   A   PLAYER 

paid  liberally  without  rendering  any  re- 
turn, still,  as  the  theater  was  making 
money  and  my  manager  met  me  so  pleas- 
antly every  pay-day,  the  qualms  of  con- 
science did  not  unduly  disturb  me.  So 
after  receiving— I  won't  say  the  reward  of 
merit,  but  my  stipend,  I  returned  cheer- 
fully to  my  farm,  only  leaving  it  again  to 
repeat  the  same  pleasant  operation  the 
following  week.  At  the  conclusion  of  the 
prosperous  run  of  "Jim  the  Penman  "  and 
of  my  long  term  of  inactivity,  engage- 
ments were  played,  I  think,  at  nearly  all 
of  the  places  which  we  visited  annually ; 
but  nothing  unusual  occurred  during  this 
time. 

"Jim  the  Penman"  having  proved  so 
prosperous,  of  course  it  became  the  chief 
attraction  of  our  repertory.  Our  summer 
season  ended,  we  opened  the  home  theater 
on  November  10,  1887,  with  a  production 
of  "The  Martyr."  I  was  somewhat  disap- 
pointed in  the  way  it  was  received,  for 
although  it  did  not  draw  particularly  well 
in  Chicago,  it  seemed  to  make  a  very 
favorable  impression,  and  was  highly 
"  209 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYEK 

spoken  of  by  the  press.  It  proved,  how- 
ever, to  be  of  too  melodramatic  and  somber 
a  character  to  suit  the  patrons  of  the 
Madison  Square  Theater. 

We  produced  a  very  pretty  play  called 
"Heart  of  Hearts  "  at  the  Madison  Square 
on  January  16,  1888.  I  had  a  long  and  a 
very  good  part  in  it.  I  remember  this 
play  more  vividly  than  any  other  of  my 
experience,  for  it  was  played  in  the  year 
of  the  great  blizzard.  I  was  living,  at  the 
time,  on  my  farm  in  New  Jersey,  and  on  a 
Monday  afternoon,  in  the  height  of  the 
great  storm,  I  left  home  for  the  theater 
some  hours  before  my  usual  time,  fearing 
difficulty  in  reaching  the  city.  The  snow, 
however,  was  so  deep  and  the  sleet  and 
snow  driving  in  such  a  furious  and  blind- 
ing manner  that  I  could  scarcely  see  a  rod 
before  my  face,  and  the  cold  was  intense. 
I  had  a  splendid  strong  man  with  me  who 
had  been  a  Danish  soldier  and  feared  no- 
thing. We  started  in  a  two-wheeled  cart, 
thinking  that  the  best  sort  of  vehicle  to 
get  through  the  drifts  for  the  station  at 
Eahway,  two  miles  away.  We  had  pro- 
210 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

ceeded  but  a  short  distance  before,  in 
plunging  through  the  drifts,  the  shafts  of 
the  cart  broke  short  off.  Nothing  daunted, 
we  returned  to  the  stables,  and  directing 
the  man  to  saddle  two  of  my  horses,  I 
determined  to  endeavor  to  get  through  on 
horseback ;  so,  mounting,  we  started  the 
second  time.  The  drifts  of  snow  were  up 
to  the  horses'  shoulders,  but  being  strong 
animals  they  plunged  through  it  for  some 
distance,  until,  reaching  the  house  of  a 
farmer  about  half-way  to  the  village,  the 
animals  gave  up  and  could  go  no  farther. 
I  cannot  begin  to  describe  the  difficulties 
and  the  pain  we  suffered.  I  wore  a  huge 
comforter  around  my  shoulders  and  face, 
and  that,  together  with  my  gloves,  and  in 
fact  all  my  garments,  were  as  stiff  as  a 
board  with  ice  and  snow.  The  horses 
being  completely  fagged  out,  we  were 
obliged  to  put  them  into  the  farmer's 
stable. 

As  I  was  determined,  however,  to  reach 

the  theater  at  all  hazards,  I  directed  my 

man  Hans  to  remain  with  the  horses  at 

the  farmer's  until  he  could  get  them  home 

211 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

again,  and  I  started  alone  to  reach  the 
railway -station  on  foot.  I  will  not  try  to 
describe  my  difficulties  on  the  way.  The 
distance  was  about  three  quarters  of  a 
mile.  I  was  frequently  up  to  my  waist  in 
drifts  of  snow,  holding  on  to  the  top  of  the 
picket  fences  as  I  crawled  along.  Finally 
I  reached  the  village  and  the  railroad-sta- 
tion, only  to  find  that  all  communication 
by  rail  had  stopped.  The  telegraph  wires 
were  all  down,  and  communication  with 
the  city  therefore  cut  off;  so  I  could  do 
nothing.  I  went  to  the  hotel,  where  I 
remained  for  two  days,  being  able  neither 
to  reach  the  city  nor  my  home  ;  and  when 
at  last  I  reached  New  York,  I  could 
scarcely  recognize  it.  Broadway  looked 
like  the  arctic  regions  with  its  mountains 
of  snow,  which  in  many  places  were  tun- 
neled and  fires  built  underneath  to  get  rid 
of  the  enormous  drifts.  The  theater  was 
closed  one  night,  so  I  missed  one  perform- 
ance of  "Heart  of  Hearts,"  and  reported 
for  duty  the  third  day  after  the  storm. 

On  April  2  "Partners"  was  produced, 
with  young  Salvini  in  the  leading  role,  in 
212 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

which  he  gave  a  very  fine  performance. 
The  rest  of  the  cast  was  made  up  of  all  the 
principal  members.  "Partners  "  ended  the 
season,  and  then  began  our  usual  summer 
tour,  which  opened  at  the  Chicago  Opera 
House,  the  first  time  the  company  had 
ever  played  in  that  theater.  At  the  con- 
clusion of  the  engagement  the  members 
made  their  usual  preparations  for  the  Cali- 
fornia trip.  It  was  thought  necessary  to 
purchase  a  few  essential  things,  such  as 
fruit  and  other  delicacies.  Most  of  us, 
too,  donned  costumes  suitable  for  crossing 
the  desert.  I  remember  William  Davidge's 
get-up  caused  us  much  amusement.  He 
wore  the  most  eccentric  suit  of  clothes  and 
a  sort  of  helmet  hat,  also  carrying  half  a 
dozen  palm-leaf  fans  and  a  large  basket  of 
fruit  and  provisions.  "  W  hat  do  you  think 
of  this  make-up,  boys?"  he  said.  "No 
fear  of  the  alkali  spoiling  these  things,  is 
there?"  Davidge  laughed,  as  we  all  did. 
I  little  thought  of  what  was  soon  to  hap- 
pen, little  thought  that  death  was  so  soon 
to  take  from  us  one  whom  I  had  known 
and  acted  with  so  long. 
213 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

Although  Davidge  had  been  in  ill 
health  before  we  started,  he  was  anxious 
again  to  take  the  trip.  He  had  told  me 
before  starting  that  Mr.  Palmer  tried  to 
persuade  him  not  to  go,  warning  him  that 
on  account  of  his  advanced  age  he  was  not 
strong  enough  to  stand  the  fatigue  of  the 
journey.  He  was  so  persistent,  however, 
that  Mr.  Palmer  yielded,  and  he  joined  the 
company.  We  had  our  usual  private  car 
on  this  trip,  and  all  went  well  until  we 
reached  Cheyenne  in  Wyoming.  Davidge 
had  been  engaged  during  the  day  in  a 
heated  political  discussion  with  some  of 
the  gentlemen,  and  had  become  much  ex- 
cited. In  the  evening,  to  please  him,— for 
he  believed  so  implicitly  in  everything 
that  was  English,— the  members  of  the 
company  had  been  singing  "God  Save  the 
Queen,'7  and  Davidge  had  joined  in  the 
chorus  with  the  greatest  vigor,  and  retired 
in  high  spirits.  His  berth  was  next  to 
mine.  At  about  one  o'clock  in  the  morning 
I  was  awakened  by  his  heavy  and  labored 
breathing.  It  seemed  that  he  was  almost 
strangling.  The  whole  company  became 
214 


KECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEE 

alarmed.  He  gasped  out  a  request  for 
more  air.  Salvini,  Masson,  Presbrey,  and 
I  supported  Mm  to  the  rear  platform 
of  the  car,  which  was  stationary,  as  the 
train  lay  over  at  Cheyenne  for  an  hour  or 
so.  He  looked  around,  saying,  "Oh,  my 
God,  surely  I  am  not  going  to  die  here, 
away  from  them  all !  "  Salvini  picked  him 
up  like  a  child  and  carried  him  into  the 
smoker,  where  we  poured  brandy  down 
his  throat,  tearing  open  his  night-dress 
and  rubbing  his  breast  with  the  liquor. 
"Breathe— breathe,"  Salvini  urged,  as  he 
rubbed  him  with  the  liquor.  Davidge 
looked  at  us  all  vacantly ;  his  last  words 
were  :  "Boys,  good-by."  Never  until  my 
dying  day  shall  I  forget  his  look  as  the 
shadows  of  death  dropped  like  a  veil  over 
his  face.  The  moon  shining  outside  made 
it  all  as  bright  as  day,  while  for  miles  in 
the  distance  nothing  could  be  seen  but  the 
sage-brush  of  the  desert.  They  improvised 
a  sort  of  stretcher,  and  laying  poor  Davidge 
upon  it,  four  of  the  company  carried  him 
to  the  undertaker's  shop  at  Cheyenne. 
We  kept  upon  our  journey  west,  and  our 
215 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYEK 

poor  friend  was  sent  back  to  New  York— 
a  sad  home-coming  for  his  dear  ones  ! 

I  had  known  him  for  many,  many  years. 
When  I  was  a  boy  with  Alexander  in  Glas- 
gow, Davidge  was  a  great  favorite  in  Edin- 
burgh, and  on  my  arrival  in  America  I 
found  him  quite  as  popular  in  New  York. 
To  those  who  did  not  know  him  his  pecu- 
liarities were  sometimes  a  little  irritating  ; 
but  he  was  a  large-hearted  man,  ever  ready 
to  assist  the  deserving,  and  to  the  end  of 
his  life  was  most  anxious  to  remain  em- 
ployed, so  that  those  depending  on  his 
exertions  should  want  for  nothing.  He 
was  ever  a  devoted  husband  and  father, 
and  a  stanch  friend. 

On  December  4,  1888,  "Captain  Swift'7 
received  its  first  performance.  Mr. 
Boucicault  had  made  a  number  of  altera- 
tions in  the  play,  and  directed  its  perform- 
ance. Maurice  Barrymore,  in  the  princi- 
pal part,  made  a  hit,  and  the  play  had  a 
long  and  prosperous  run,  proving  one  of 
the  strongest  attractions  both  in  New  York 
and  on  the  road.  Mrs.  Booth  did  some 
very  effective  work  in  this  play,  as  did 
216 


Dion  Boucieault. 


A  R 
or  THE 

UNIVERSITY 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

also  E.  M.  Holland,  who  had  a  good  part. 
Maude  Harrison,  Kobinson,  Harry  Wood- 
ruff, and  Annie  Kussell  were  also  well  cast. 
The  part  of  Marshall,  which  fell  to  me,  had 
originally  been  played  as  a  young  man, 
but  was  rewritten  to  suit  my  years,  and 
was  made  a  foster-father  instead  of  a  son. 
I  had  a  realistic  struggle  to  do  with 
Barrymore  in  one  scene,  and  one  day  at  a 
matinee  performance  we  went  at  it  with 
such  earnestness  that  we  both  displaced 
our  wigs ;  Barrymore's  slipped  down  the 
back  of  his  neck,  and  mine  cocked  over 
my  eye.  The  young  ladies  in  the  or- 
chestra seats  seemed  to  enjoy  our  unpleas- 
ant position,  and  giggled  throughout  the 
scene.  Barrymore  was  angry  for  a  mo- 
ment or  two  at  the  mishap,  but  laughed 
heartily  on  reaching  our  dressing-room. 
To  me  Barrymore  was  one  of  the  bright- 
est and  most  entertaining  men  I  ever 
met— a  bohemian  in  many  respects,  but 
generous  to  a  fault.  His  performance 
of  Captain  Swift  I  considered  masterly. 
He  was  a  most  amusing  companion,  with 
an  inexhaustible  supply  of  anecdotes. 
217 


EECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYEE 

Often  while  on  the  road  I  have  known  the 
company  (after  the  evening's  perform- 
ance) to  sit  up  till  break  of  day,  held  spell- 
bound by  his  brilliant  talk  and  happy  wit. 
About  this  time  I  made  up  my  mind 
that  amateur  farming  and  fruit-growing 
was  not  the  most  rapid  way  of  obtaining 
fortune,  so  I  parted  with  my  farm.  My 
pear  orchard  had  proved  sadly  disappoint- 
ing, but  anticipation  of  a  better  result  was 
for  many  years  a  fruitful  source  of  plea- 
sure. My  love  for  the  country  has,  how- 
ever, never  diminished,  but  I  am  contented 
to  indulge  it  upon  a  smaller  scale  ;  so  even 
now  I  may  be  seen  wending  my  way  to 
Sewaren,  another  home  place  in  New 
Jersey,  where  I  have— at  least,  I  think  so 
—a  charming  cottage  overlooking  Staten 
Island  Sound,  of  course  a  garden,  a  yacht, 
and  many  dear  friends  with  whom  I  hope 
still  to  pass  many  pleasant  days.  Of  course 
the  place  that  we  had  built  up,  beautified, 
and  made  our  home  for  twenty  years, 
where  our  children  had  grown  from  "wee 
tots"  to  manhood  and  womanhood,  was  left 
with  great  regret.  Beyond  old  associa- 
218 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER, 

tion  and  the  beauty  of  my  home  there 
was  little  else  to  make  the  place  attractive. 
We  had  one  or  two  pleasant  neighbors,  but 
beyond  them  the  country  was  populated 
(and  very  sparsely)  by  the  typical  small 
Jersey  farmer— a  very  good  sort  of  per- 
son if  you  only  understand  him,  but  very 
inquisitive,  wanting  to  know  all  about 
your  circumstances,  your  occupation,  and 
if  you  have  a  mortgage  on  your  farm.  It 
would  surprise  one  to  be  told  that  a  person 
born  within  twenty  miles  of  New  York 
had  never  seen  that  city,  and  yet  was 
eighty  years  old.  My  brother  George  and 
I  were  standing  in  my  pear  orchard  one 
day  when  there  appeared  the  oddest- 
looking  old  fellow  we  had  ever  seen— a 
veritable  Rip  Van  Winkle.  He  looked  a 
hundred.  His  long  hair  and  beard  were 
as  white  as  milk,  and  he  held  in  his  hand 
a  long  stick  of  oak.  He  lived  not  many 
miles  from  my  place,  and  yet  seemed  to 
have  discovered  a  new  country.  He  came 
up  to  us  and  said,  "Is  this  your  place?" 
I  told  him  I  thought  it  was.  "Well," 
said  he,  "if  old  Jonathan  Bloomfield  could 
219 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

come  out  of  his  grave  he  'd  never  have 
knowed  it  j  and  yet  he  was  born  here. 
And  what  might  be  your  business?"  I 
told  him  I  was  employed  in  New  York. 
"Well,"  says  he,  "I  ain't  never  been  to 
New  York.  And  yet  I '  ve  been  a  traveler, 
too  :  I  've  been  to  Trenton."  His  bleared 
eyes  wandered  through  my  orchard.  l  i  For 
land's  sake,"  he  said,  "what  air  you  going 
to  do  with  all  them  pears  f  "  I  put  an  end 
to  the  interview  by  stuffing  his  pockets 
with  fruit,  and  he  went  hobbling  through 
the  gate  muttering,  "Well,  well,  well,  old 
Jonathan  Bloomfield's  place.  I  never 
would  have  knowed  it." 

During  Mr.  Palmer's  visits  to  Chicago 
his  company  played  in  all  the  different 
principal  theaters  there :  Haverly's,  now 
converted  into  a  national  bank  j  atHooley's 
many  times  ;  the  Grand  Opera  House  j  and 
for  one  season  at  the  Chicago  Opera  House, 
now  devoted  to  vaudeville  ;  also  innumer- 
able times  at  McVickar's  and  at  the  Co- 
lumbia Theater ;  and  all,  I  think,  proved 
profitable  to  the  management.  On  one  of 
our  visits,  I  forget  in  which  year,  we  were 
220 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

acting  at  Hooley's  Theater,  when,  on  ac- 
count of  the  riots  then  disturbing  the  city, 
all  places  of  amusement  were  ordered  to 
close ;  in  fact,  all  business  was  suspended. 
It  was  a  most  exciting  time.  The  police 
proved  incapable  of  coping  with  the 
mob,  so  the  militia  was  called  out,  which 
seemed  only  to  incense  the  people  the 
more.  In  fact,  the  militiamen  were  chased 
through  the  streets  and  pelted  from  the 
roofs  of  houses.  It  was  dangerous  to  be 
in  the  streets.  But  toward  the  end  of  the 
week  a  company  of  regulars  arrived  in 
the  city.  I  shall  never  forget  their  ap- 
pearance—so different  from  the  city  sol- 
diers. They  had  come  by  a  forced  march 
from  the  plains ;  their  regimentals  were 
faded  and  worn,  and  their  faces  the  color 
of  mahogany.  With  fixed  bayonets  they 
advanced  quickly  upon  the  rioters,  who 
fled  before  them  like  sheep,  and  in  a  very 
brief  time  all  disturbance  was  at  an  end. 
Business  soon  resumed,  and  all  the  theaters 
were  quickly  in  full  blast  again. 

We  opened  again  in  New  York  on  Oc- 
tober 30,  1889,  with  "Aunt  Jack."     This 
221 


EECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

play  had  enjoyed  a  long  run  in  London, 
with  Mrs.  John  Wood  in  the  chief  part 
—played  by  Mrs.  Agnes  Booth  on  its 
production  here.  The  play  was  a  great 
success,  and  enjoyed  a  long  run.  Mr. 
Palmer  made  arrangements  to  give  a 
matinee  performance  of  it  in  Washington, 
without  omitting  the  regular  evening 
performance.  A  special  train  on  the 
Pennsylvania  Kailroad  was  chartered  and 
the  track  kept  clear  for  us.  I  don't  think 
I  ever  before  rode  so  fast.  We  reached 
Washington  at  the  appointed  time,  and 
Mr.  Palmer  had  prepared  for  us  a  banquet 
after  the  performance,  having  taken  which, 
we  started  back  for  New  York.  On  our 
arrival  we  went  straight  from  the  train  to 
the  theater,  having  our  dinner  served  to 
us  in  the  green-room ;  then  we  went  to 
work  for  the  evening  performance.  The 
play  never  went  better  than  on  these  two 
occasions ;  the  trip,  instead  of  fatiguing 
the  company,  had,  I  think,  a  tendency  to 
enliven  us. 

At  the  end  of  the  season  the  company 
started  again  to  California.     Agnes  Booth, 
222 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF  A  PLAYER 

however,  did  not  accompany  us,  but  was 
replaced  by  Ada  Dyas.  We  always  had 
long  engagements  in  "Frisco,"  continuing 
each  play  one  week.  Miss  Dyas  was  a 
favorite  both  with  the  public  and  her 
associates.  I  always  enjoyed  my  trips  to 
the  Pacific  coast.  It  was  so  pleasant  to 
escape  the  summer  heat  of  the  East.  The 
audiences  there  are  warm  and  apprecia- 
tive. If  they  only  take  to  an  actor,  no- 
thing is  left  undone  to  make  his  stay 
pleasant  and  comfortable.  I  have  there 
many  very  dear  friends.  I  was  quite  ac- 
customed to  spend  the  early  part  of  the 
day  visiting  the  Cliff  House,  and  used  to 
delight  in  looking  at  Seal  Rock  and  the 
seals  swimming  and  diving  into  the  water, 
all  the  while  barking  like  dogs.  The 
largest  ships,  too,  I  had  ever  seen  came 
to  San  Francisco  while  I  was  there.  I 
would  often  wander  down  to  the  docks  to 
see  the  great  four-masted  iron  vessels,  de- 
lighting to  read  their  names  and  learn 
where  they  hailed  from.  Thus  occupied 
one  day,  I  discovered  a  ship  which  came 
from  Glasgow.  The  name  immediately 
223 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYER 

appealed  to  me,  and  as  I  stood  gazing 
upon  her,  a  wee  chap  with  a  white  head 
and  a  red  shirt  came  down  the  gangway, 
carrying  a  bucket  in  his  hand.  I  could 
not  resist  speaking  to  him.  "  Ah,  my  wee 
mon,"  I  said,  dropping  into  the  phrase- 
ology of  my  youth,  aye  are  frae  Glasgow." 
"Oh,  aye,"  says  he,  "an'  I  wish  to  the  Lord 
I  was  back  again."  The  entrance  into  San 
Francisco  through  the  Golden  Gate  is 
truly  magnificent.  The  city  itself  is  most 
cosmopolitan,  as  all  nationalities  are  to  be 
found  in  "Frisco." 

On  each  visit  I  spent  some  time  in 
Chinatown,  always  going  to  the  Chinese 
Theater  to  see  a  performance,  as  there  is 
a  great  deal  of  courtesy  extended  by  the 
management  to  American  actors.  On  one 
occasion  the  manager  would  insist  on  my- 
self and  others  of  our  ladies  and  gentle- 
men sitting  on  the  stage  during  one  of  the 
performances.  It  was  funny  to  see  how 
dreadfully  in  earnest  the  actors  were— 
killing  each  other  with  wooden  swords  and 
dying  on  the  stage,  then  getting  up  and 
walking  off.  We  all  thought  we  had  seen 
224 


Mrs.  John  Wood. 


BECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

the  end  of  the  play,  but  were  told,  on  leav- 
ing the  theater,  that  it  lasted  for  a  whole 
week.  Although  we  had  enj  oyed  it  much, 
none  of  us  cared  to  sit  out  the  entire  per- 
formance. 

At  the  end  of  our  San  Francisco  engage- 
ment (1892)  the  company  visited  portions 
of  southern  California,  making  a  delightful 
trip.  We  played  in  Los  Angeles,  Santa 
Barbara,  Riverside,  and  other  towns.  I 
was  surprised  to  find  how  many  New  York 
people  had  settled  in  this  region,  possess- 
ing the  most  beautiful  homes.  On  our 
arrival  at  Santa  Barbara  we  were  met  by 
a  party  of  gentlemen  who  treated  us  in 
the  most  courteous  and  friendly  manner, 
having  two  large  coaches  in  readiness  in 
anticipation  of  our  coming.  I  was  told 
that  we  were  known  by  most  of  the  people, 
although  it  was  our  first  visit.  They  drove 
us  to  the  hotel,  and  insisted  that  later  in 
the  afternoon  they  should  show  us  around 
the  place,  so  that  we  might  "see  the 
sights,"  and  most  of  the  ladies  and  gentle- 
men of  the  company  availed  themselves  of 
the  courteous  invitation.  Years  before 
15  225 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYEK 

I  had  heard  Miss  Clara  Morris  say  that 
she  thought  Santa  Barbara  (she  had  spent 
two  summers  there)  was  "God's  own  spot." 
I  thought  myself,  upon  first  beholding  it, 
that  her  description  was  very  apt.  The 
situation  of  the  place  and  the  climate,  to- 
gether with  the  character  and  refinement 
of  the  people,  tend  to  make  it  an  ideal 
resort.  Among  other  sights,  not  the  least 
interesting  was  a  visit  which  we  made  to 
a  very  old  monastery,  a  picturesque  and 
antiquated  structure  standing  on  a  bluff 
and  overlooking  the  sea.  It  was  inhabited 
by  real  live  monks  with  their  long  gray 
gowns  and  cowls,  beads  and  sandals.  I 
had  quite  an  interesting  talk  with  one  of 
them,  a  very  old  man,  who  gave  me  a  his- 
tory of  the  place.  The  clearness  of  the 
sky,  the  mildness  of  the  air,  the  lovely  sea- 
view,  and  our  pleasant  acquaintance  with 
the  old  monastery  and  its  inmates,  created 
an  impression  which  will  always  linger  in 
my  mind.  The  theater  was  in  an  out-of- 
the-way  portion  of  the  city,  and  not  a 
very  attractive  place  when  we  reached  it ; 
but  its  location  seemed  to  make  little 
226 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYEB 

difference,  for  the  audience  was  a  brilliant 
one.  One  really  might  have  supposed  that 
we  were  holding  forth  in  a  Broadway 
theater,  so  cordial  and  friendly  was  the 
reception  given  those  who  had  long  been 
identified  with  the  New  York  stage.  It 
confirmed  my  former  opinion  that  a  repu- 
tation gained  in  the  city  of  New  York 
makes  one  pretty  well  known  throughout 
the  country. 

Another  great  treat  was  afforded  by 
our  visit  to  Biverside.  It  seemed  almost 
as  if  the  people  at  Santa  Barbara  had 
journeyed  hither  with  our  company,  so 
similar  in  friendliness  was  our  reception 
here.  We  found  Biverside  also  almost 
exclusively  composed  of  people  from  the 
East.  This  part  of  California  is  so  beau- 
tiful one  can  scarcely  help  envying  the 
fortunate  settlers.  A  gentleman  from  New 
York  who  remembered  me  in  the  Wai- 
lack  time  years  ago,  and  who,  like  many 
others,  had  sought  southern  California 
for  the  benefit  of  his  health,  kindly  took 
me  in  hand,  showing  me  all  the  objects  of 
interest  in  the  vicinity.  There  is  here  a 
227 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYER 

lovely  driveway  known  as  Magnolia  Ave- 
nue, taking  its  name  from  a  magnificent 
row  of  magnolia-trees  extending  through 
the  center  of  the  road  throughout  its  en- 
tire length  of  some  four  or  five  miles,  the 
avenue  itself  being  of  a  width  of  about 
two  hundred  feet.  On  either  side  may  be 
seen  the  most  charming  villas  and  cottages, 
all  standing  in  the  midst  of  orange  groves. 
The  trees  with  their  hanging  fruit  and  the 
subtle  odor  of  the  blossoms  so  charmed 
my  senses  that  I  felt  I  should  be  quite 
content  to  live  there  even  at  the  sacrifice 
of  some  of  my  good  health.  As  was  the 
case  at  Santa  Barbara,  the  theater  was 
crowded  with  a  fashionable  and  friendly 
audience.  The  company  took  their  de- 
parture next  morning  with  much  regret 
at  bidding  adieu  to  southern  California. 

We  played  our  way  back,  stopping  over 
at  Kansas  City,  Omaha,  and  Chicago,  Mr. 
Palmer  joining  us  at  the  latter  city.  He 
had  just  returned  from  London,  where  he 
had  seen  and  purchased  a  play  with  which 
he  was  delighted,  entitled  "A  Pair  of 
Spectacles."  In  London  it  had  been 
228 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

played  at  Mr.  Hare's  theater  and  proved 
a  very  great  success.  The  part  of  Ben- 
jamin Goldfinch  had  been  acted  by  Mr. 
John  Hare,  with  the  well-known  Charles 
Groves  in  the  r61e  of  Gregory— both  fine 
parts.  E.  M.  Holland  and  I  were  the 
originals  in  America.  Mr.  Palmer  was  in 
doubt  as  to  which  of  the  two  parts  I  should 
play,  but  he  finally  cast  me  for  Benjamin 
Goldfinch  and  Holland  for  Gregory.  We 
had  no  vacation,  but  traveled  until  the 
opening  of  the  New  York  season  on  Octo- 
ber 30,  1890.  While  we  were  playing  an 
engagement  at  the  Broad  Street  Theater 
in  Philadelphia,  Mr.  Palmer  came  on  and 
directed  the  rehearsals  of  "A  Pair  of  Spec- 
tacles." What  with  continual  travel  and 
playing  long  parts  nightly,  I  found  the 
study  of  so  long  a  part  as  Goldfinch  a  task, 
and  as  the  time  approached  for  our  open- 
ing in  New  York  with  the  piece,  I  found 
myself  ill  with  apprehension.  I  went  to 
Mr.  Palmer  and  explained  my  feelings  to 
him,  with  the  result  that,  as  usual,  he  met 
me  in  the  kindest  manner,  admonishing 
me  not  to  worry,  and  assuring  me  that 
229 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

until  I  came  to  Mm  and  said  that  I  felt 
quite  easy  in  the  words  the  play  should 
not  be  produced.  This  was  only  another 
instance  of  Mr.  Palmer's  kind  forbearance 
and  consideration.  I  think,  however,  that 
he  fully  understood  that  whatever  trouble 
I  gave  him  was  occasioned  more  by  my 
nervous  temperament  than  by  any  wish  to 
shirk  my  duty.  The  production  of  this 
play  was  forestalled  by  another  version  of 
the  same  story,  which  was  done  a  short 
time  before  our  opening.  I  suppose  it 
may  have  hurt  our  production  a  little, 
but  those  who  stole  a  march  upon  us  did 
themselves  no  good,  either  in  an  artistic 
or  a  pecuniary  sense.  "A  Pair  of  Spec- 
tacles" was  a  delightful  little  play,  but 
while  it  achieved  a  fair  measure  of  success, 
it  certainly  did  not  receive  the  support 
its  merit  deserved.  Personally  I  have 
never  played  a  part  more  to  my  liking 
than  was  my  r61e  in  this  play. 

On  April  1,  1891,  "  Alabama,"  a  play 

from  the  pen  of  Augustus  Thomas,  was 

produced.    Its  immediate  success  was,  I 

fancy,  a  surprise,  for  I,  as  well  as  other 

230 


EECOLLECTION8  OF  A  PLAYEK 

members  of  the  company,  had  understood 
that  the  management  had  not  a  great 
opinion  of  its  merits.  However,  be  that 
as  it  may,  after  the  first  performance  there 
remained  not  the  slightest  doubt  as  to  its 
popularity.  Many  regarded  the  play  more 
as  a  rural  poem  than  as  a  dramatic  com- 
position. As  originally  produced  I  have 
certainly  never  seen  a  sweeter  little  play, 
and  it  had  about  it  the  native  languorous 
atmosphere  of  the  South.  The  scenic  ar- 
tists offered  a  lovely  picture,  and  the  effect 
was  heightened  by  the  fragrance  of  magno- 
lia-trees, which  was  artificially  produced. 
Mr.  Charles  Harris  had  been  engaged  to 
strengthen  the  company,  a  result  which  he 
certainly  achieved.  Who  that  has  seen 
his  Squire  Tucker  can  ever  forget  it?  It 
was  one  of  the  best  performances  in  its 
way  I  have  ever  seen.  In  Colonel  Moberly, 
too,  Mr.  Holland  had  a  part  that  suited 
him  to  perfection,  and  Maurice  Barrymore 
and  Mrs.  Agnes  Booth  were  at  their  best 
as  Captain  Armstrong  and  Mrs.  Page.  Agnes 
Miller,  also,  brought  a  sweet  and  capti- 
vating personality  to  the  part  of  Carey, 
231 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

the  young  Southern  girl.  In  this  play 
Reuben  Fax  appeared  as  an  old  colored 
retainer,  and  made  in  it  the  first  hit  of 
his  professional  life.  I  played  the  part  of 
Colonel  Preston,  and,  barring  my  Southern 
dialect,  or  the  lack  of  it,  I  think  the  part 
suited  me  well.  In  fact,  the  cast  was  almost 
perfect.  The  run  was  unfortunately  in- 
terrupted by  the  fact  that  the  Madison 
Square  Theater  had  been  sublet  for  a  sum- 
mer production  to  Mr.  Tom  MacDonough, 
and,  as  he  refused  to  give  up  his  dates, 
"Alabama  "  was  forced  to  withdraw  in  the 
height  of  its  success,  and  the  company  went 
on  tour,  beginning  with  an  engagement  at 
Washington.  We  traveled  all  the  sum- 
mer, and  played  at  Hooley's  in  Chicago 
for  several  weeks  in  "Alabama."  During 
this  trip  we  made  our  first  visit  to  Tacoma, 
Seattle,  and  Portland,  in  all  of  which  cities 
we  played  brilliant  engagements.  I  shall 
always  remember  our  trip  up  the  Colum- 
bia River,  which  occupied  an  entire  day. 
The  scenery,  added  to  its  native  grandeur, 
had  for  us  the  charm  of  novelty.  I  saw 
more  salmon  in  this  stream  in  a  few  hours 
232 


Charles  L.  Harris  as  Squire  Tucker  iu  '•  Alabama.' 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

than  I  had  ever  seen  in  all  my  life  before, 
and  yet  my  experience  in  Scotland  in  that 
way  had  been  considerable.  Our  party, 
too,  this  season  was  an  exceptionally  jolly 
one.  Barrymore,  Holland,  and  Harris 
could  usually  banish  dull  care  under  al- 
most any  circumstances,  but  on  this  par- 
ticular trip  they  seemed  to  outdo  them- 
selves in  pleasantry.  Charley  Harris  was 
a  New  Orleans  man,  and  was  brimful  of 
Southern  anecdotes.  I  am  sure  it  would 
have  been  worth  the  price  of  admission  to 
any  theater  to  have  seen  and  heard  him 
on  this  occasion.  He  sang  many  of  the 
old  negro  songs,  the  company  joining  in 
the  chorus,  and  sang  them  so  characteris- 
tically, and  told  so  many  droll  darky 
stories,  that  it  convulsed  not  only  his 
associates,  but  most  of  the  boat's  crew, 
who  had  gathered  around  to  hear.  We 
reached  Portland  in  the  evening,  and  found 
it  a  delightful  city,  and  our  quarters  at  a 
magnificent  hotel  filled  with  fashionable 
people.  We  were  surprised  at  the  array 
of  beautifully  dressed  women  and  modish 
men  which  our  party  encountered  upon 
233 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

being  shown  into  the  dining-room.  We 
could  see  that  some  of  them  recognized  us 
immediately,  for  at  one  of  the  tables  we 
heard  it  remarked  as  we  passed  by  :  "  Why, 
there  's  Barrymore.  Yes,  and  Holland. 
And  there  >s  old  Mr.  Stoddart."  We 
learned  afterward  that  there  were  many 
New-Yorkers  present,  which  accounted 
for  our  recognition.  We  played  a  fine 
engagement,  and  then  worked  our  way 
back  to  New  York,  where  we  opened  the 
next  season  at  Palmer's  Theater  (formerly 
known  as  Wallack's)  with  a  reproduction 
of  "Alabama."  Again  the  play  did  well, 
although  it  was  the  opinion  of  most  of  us 
that  had  the  original  production  not  been 
interrupted  it  could  have  run  an  entire 
season. 

On  February  3, 1892,  "The  Broken  Seal" 
was  produced.  It  had  been  played  by  Mr. 
Beerbohm  Tree,  in  London,  under  the  title 
of  "The  Village  Priest,"  and,  I  believe,  suc- 
cessfully. It  did  not  fare  so  well  in  Amer- 
ica. It  was  in  this  play  that  Miss  Julia 
Arthur  made  her  first  appearance  with 
the  company,  and  it  was  also  the  occasion 
234 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF  A  PLAYER 

of  the  first  appearance  of  Mr.  James  K. 
Hackett  in  a  part  of  any  prominence  on 
the  professional  stage,  although  as  an 
amateur  he  had  been  well  known  for  some 
time. 

In  April  of  this  year,  and  during  the 
run  of  this  play,  I  received  the  saddest 
blow  of  my  life  in  the  death  of  my  dear 
wife ;  and  my  necessary  absence  from  the 
performances  gave  to  Mr.  Hackett  an  op- 
portunity which  he  much  desired,  for  he 
was  put  on  in  my  place. 

After  this  season  the  company  went  on 
tour  again,  and  were  kept  traveling  for 
nearly  two  years.  Miss  Arthur  was  now 
a  regular  member  of  the  company,  and 
E.  J.  Henley  had  also  joined,  as  had  Miss 
Ida  Conquest,  who  at  this  time  began  her 
theatrical  career  with  Mr.  Palmer.  The 
company  played  in  all  the  principal  cities, 
including  a  long  engagement  in  Chicago, 
where  we  made  a  reproduction  of  "Ala- 
bama" at  the  Columbia  Theater.  After 
visiting  the  Western  cities  we  extended 
the  tour  into  the  Southern  States,  visiting 
St.  Louis,  Louisville,  Memphis,  and  New 
235 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

Orleans.  At  the  latter  place  we  found 
Miss  Effie  Ellsler  playing  at  the  Opera 
House,  and  my  old  friend  C.  W.  Couldock 
a  member  of  her  company.  We  lived  at 
the  same  hotel,  and  had  many  pleasant 
chats  together.  Couldock  was  full  of 
reminiscences,  and  could  tell  a  story  in 
the  drollest  manner  and  with  as  good 
effect  as  any  one  I  have  ever  met.  He 
was  well  known  in  New  Orleans  and  had 
a  great  many  friends,  whom  it  was  his 
custom  to  meet  after  the  performance, 
often  insisting  upon  my  going  with  him. 
Upon  these  occasions  Couldock  would  keep 
us  all  greatly  amused  for  hours  with  his 
experiences  of  bygone  days. 

After  New  Orleans  we  retraced  our 
steps,  revisiting  many  of  the  cities,  "Ala- 
bama "  being  our  chief  attraction.  Charley 
Harris  at  this  time  began  to  complain  of 
illness,  and  although  he  traveled  con- 
stantly with  the  company,  he  acted  only 
occasionally.  He  looked  so  strong  and 
hearty  it  seemed  hard  to  realize  that  he 
was  afflicted  with  a  fatal  malady.  His 
absence  from  the  cast  made  such  a  differ  - 
236 


C.  W.  Couldock. 


Of  THE 

ERSITV 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

ence  in  the  performance  that  I  now  re- 
proach myself  with  having  on  more  than 
one  occasion  tried  to  langh  him  out  of  his 
indisposition  and  persuade  him  to  act.  I 
remember,  in  one  place,  it  was  nearly  time 
to  go  to  the  theater,  and  I  waited  for  him 
at  the  hotel  where  we  were  living,  and 
said,  "Come  along,  Charley  ;  it  's  time  to  go 
to  the  theater  "  ;  to  which  he  replied,  with 
tears  in  his  eyes,  "For  God's  sake,  Gov- 
ernor, don't  ask  me  to  act  to-night ;  you 
don't  know  how  ill  I  feel."  It  was  the 
truth,  for  he  never  played  again.  It  so 
happened  that  a  friend  for  whom  he  had 
done  much  years  before  was  at  the  same 
hotel,  and  insisted  on  taking  him  in  charge. 
The  company  moved  on  in  the  morning^ 
leaving  poor  Harris  with  his  friend,  and 
the  next  time  we  saw  him  he  was  in  the 
Chicago  Hospital.  We  learned  that  there 
was  no  hope  for  his  life.  Some  members 
of  the  company  visited  him  every  day,  and 
he  wanted  for  nothing.  Throughout  all 
he  was  brave  and  uncomplaining,  and  the 
nurses  at  the  hospital  were  untiring  in 
their  attention  and  so  gentle  in  their 
237 


KECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

treatment  that  the  company,  in  recogni- 
tion of  their  kindness,  subscribed  for  and 
presented  to  them  a  little  testimonial  as 
a  mark  of  appreciation.  Shortly  after- 
ward poor  Harris  died,  and  thus  ended  the 
earthly  career  of  a  whole-souled,  genial 
fellow.  Not  many  months  before  he  had 
been  the  life  of  our  little  party,  with  his 
songs  and  his  stories,  as  we  sailed  up  the 
Columbia  Biver. 

Mr.  Palmer  had  made  an  arrangement 
with  Al  Hayman  to  play  his  company  in 
San  Francisco  for  a  sort  of  stock  season, 
presenting  its  entire  repertoire.  Mr. 
Wilton  Lackaye  now  joined  as  leading 
man,  and  we  played  for  ten  or  twelve 
weeks,  presenting  all  the  old  plays,  and 
also  producing  in  quite  an  elaborate  man- 
ner Henry  Arthur  Jones's  "The  Dancing 
Girl."  The  season,  however,  did  not  prove 
so  successful  as  former  ones,  perhaps  be- 
cause the  times  were  not  so  good.  Upon 
our  return  we  played  in  all  the  important 
cities,  and  again  went  South.  The  open- 
ing of  the  next  season  was  with  the  produc- 
tion of  a  play  in  which  I  was  not  cast,  and 
238 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYEE 

in  the  meantime  I  received  a  letter  from 
Salt  Lake  asking  me  to  go  there  and  play 
for  a  week  with  an  amateur  organization 
in  "Saints  and  Sinners."  As  the  offer  was 
a  liberal  one,  and  Mr.  Palmer  consented, 
I  went.  "Saints  and  Sinners  "  had  always 
been  a  favorite  play  in  Salt  Lake.  Al- 
though it  was  quite  a  long  journey  to  take 
for  a  week's  engagement,  I  was  amply  re- 
paid by  the  warmth  of  my  reception  and 
the  kindly  courtesy  extended  to  me  during 
my  brief  visit.  "We  had  only  two  rehear- 
sals, and  it  really  would  have  astonished 
many  old  professionals  to  have  seen  the 
careful  attention,  earnestness,  and  abil- 
ity displayed  by  my  Mormon  associates. 
The  play  was  excellently  staged  and  well 
performed.  The  parts  of  Lettie  Fletcher 
and  Hoggard  were  acted  by  near  relatives 
of  Brigham  Young,  and  Ralph  Kingsley 
was  played  by  Mr.  Heber  Wells,  the  pres- 
ent governor  of  Utah,  and  in  a  manner 
that  would  have  been  creditable  to  any 
experienced  actor.  Mr.  Whitney,  editor 
of  the  Salt  Lake  "Herald,"  was  stage-man- 
ager, business  man,  and  in  fact  general 
239 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

factotum  of  the  enterprise.  Mr.  Palmer 
had  played  his  company  for  a  great  many 
years  in  Salt  Lake  while  on  its  way  to  the 
coast,  and  it  has  always  been  to  me  a 
source  of  pleasure  to  visit  the  city.  The 
company's  visits  had  ever  been  anticipated 
and  arrangements  for  their  stay  made,  so  as 
to  render  it  pleasant  and  agreeable.  Much 
was  done  for  our  amusement,  including 
organ  recitals  at  the  Mormon  Temple,  ex- 
cursions to  the  lake,  social  receptions,  etc. 
When  one  contemplates  what  has  been 
accomplished  in  this  city  in  creating  as 
it  were  a  garden  out  of  a  desert,  founding 
and  building  so  beautiful  a  metropolis, 
bespeaking  so  much  toil,  thrift,  and  in- 
domitable perseverance,  it  must  call  for 
sincere  admiration  and  command  great 
respect.  The  week  ended,  I  said  good-by 
to  my  Salt  Lake  friends  with  much  regret 
and  returned  to  New  York. 

After  my  return  I  did  not  again  play 
until  New  Year's  eve,  1894,  when  the 
drama  of  "The  Fatal  Card"  was  produced 
at  Palmer's  Theater  j  I  was  loaned  for  this 
production  by  Mr.  Palmer.  I  had  heard 
240 


A.  M.  Palmer. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

rumors  that  Mr.  Palmer  would  give  up 
his  theater  and  retire  from  management, 
so  I  sought  an  interview  with  him,  and 
found  that  the  reports  were  true.  Mr. 
Palmer  told  me  that  he  found  it  impos- 
sible now  to  secure  new  and  attractive 
material  for  his  theater,  and  so  thought 
it  better  to  withdraw.  He  had  been  my 
manager  for  more  than  half  of  my  Ameri- 
can career ;  during  all  this  time  he  had 
been  uniformly  kind  and  generous  with 
me,  and  however  great  his  regret  may 
have  been  in  parting  with  me,  I  am  sure 
it  could  not  exceed  mine  in  saying  good-by 
to  him. 

After  "The  Fatal  Card"  had  run  its 
course  at  Palmer's,  it  was  taken  to  Chi- 
cago, and  then  back  to  New  York,  where 
it  was  played  successfully  at  the  Academy 
of  Music  until  the  approach  of  warm  wea- 
ther. The  following  season  I  was  reen- 
gaged by  Mr.  Charles  Frohman  to  play 
Joe  Aylmer  in  the  original  production  here 
of  "The  Sporting  Duchess."  The  play  ran 
most  of  the  season  at  the  Academy  of 
Music,  and  was  then  taken  to  Philadelphia 
16  241 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

and  Boston,  where  we  ended  our  season 
with  it  at  the  Hollis  Street  Theater.  Mr. 
Frank  Perley  arranged  with  Mr.  Frohman 
to  take  the  piece  the  following  season. 
Mrs.  Booth  played  her  original  part  of  the 
Duchess  for  a  while,  and  on  her  retirement 
was  replaced  by  Miss  Rose  Coghlan.  Many 
other  changes  in  the  cast  took  place,  but 
under  Mr.  Perley's  management  the  gen- 
eral excellence  of  the  original  production 
was  kept  up.  I  acted  in  the  play  for 
nearly  three  seasons. 

During  its  run  at  the  Academy  of  Music 
Mr.  Harry  Mann,  the  business  manager, 
came  into  my  dressing-room  one  evening, 
and  informed  me  that  Mr.  Frohman  and 
my  associates  contemplated  presenting  me 
with  a  loving-cup,  and  wanted  to  ascertain 
from  me  a  few  facts  about  my  career  :  how 
long  I  had  been  on  the  stage,  and  so  on. 
As  I  have  never  forgotten  my  debut  in 
"The  Rent  Day"  when  I  was  five  years 
old,  I  told  Mr.  Mann  that  I  had  been  sixty- 
three  years  upon  the  stage.  "Good  Lord, 
man,"  he  said,  "how  old  are  you,  anyway  ?  " 
Of  course  I  explained  that  I  was  not  actu- 
242 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

ally  as  old  as  the  statement  would  seem  to 
indicate.  The  episode  of  the  presentment 
of  the  cup  was  an  unexpected  compliment. 
Mr.  Frohman's  kind  consideration  in  hav- 
ing my  old  manager  Mr.  Palmer  make 
the  speech  of  presentation,  and  his  invita- 
tion to  all  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the 
various  theaters  to  meet  me  on  the  occa- 
sion, and  my  old  manager's  complimentary 
remarks  upon  our  long  association,  to- 
gether with  Mr.  Jefferson's  kind  gift 
inscribed  "For  Auld  Lang  Syne,"  are  in- 
cidents in  my  life  which  will  never  be 
forgotten. 

During  my  engagement  with  Mr.  Charles 
Frohman,  a  friend  of  long  standing  had 
been  reading  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure 
the  tales  of  Ian  Maclaren,  and  was  particu- 
larly interested  in  "Beside  the  Bonnie 
Brier  Bush."  He  came  to  see  me  at  my 
cottage  at  Sewaren,  and  said :  "Mr.  Stod- 
dart,  before  you  end  your  theatrical  career 
I  want  to  see  you  play  old  Doctor  MacLure. 
He  is  a  great  character."  I  told  him  I 
thought  it  would  be  difficult  to  get  Dr. 
Watson's  consent  to  having  his  stories  put 
243 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYER 

into  dramatic  form  and  produced.  "Oh," 
said  my  friend,  "I  know  MacArthur  of  the 
'  Bookman.'  He  's  a  Glasgow  chap  and  a 
friend  of  Dr.  Watson's,  and  I  am  sure  he 
can  arrange  it."  But  MacArthur,  like 
myself,  thought  that  Watson,  being  a 
Scotch  minister,  would  scarcely  consent 
to  having  his  stories  reproduced  for  theat- 
rical purposes.  My  friend  was  persistent, 
however,  and  at  length  prevailed  upon 
MacArthur  to  write  to  Dr.  Watson,  and 
we  were  all  surprised  and  delighted  at 
receiving  his  reply.  It  was  to  the  effect 
that  if  the  story  could  be  dramatized  effec- 
tively and  well,  he  had  no  objection.  On 
receipt  of  this  letter,  MacArthur,  in  con- 
junction with  Tom  Hall,  set  to  work  and 
produced  a  manuscript  which,  when  com- 
pleted, MacArthur  brought  out  to  my 
cottage  and  read  to  my  daughter  and  me. 
We  liked  it.  It  read  well. 

It  was  the  intention  to  make  MacLure 
the  prominent  character  of  the  piece,  and 
the  part  was  written  for  me.  And  he  cer- 
tainly is  the  most  delightful  person  in  the 
story ;  but  in  the  play  he  lacked  situation 
244 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

and  the  dramatic  worth  of  Lachlan  Camp- 
bell. I  told  the  authors  so,  and  for  some 
time  it  remained  a  disputed  question  which 
of  the  two  parts  I  should  play,  which  was 
settled  only  by  my  refusal  to  play  the 
Doctor.  Since  its  production,  I  feel  that 
I  did  not  err  in  my  judgment.  It  was 
pointed  out  to  me,  and  I  realized  the 
truth  of  the  remark,  that  during  my  long 
career  I  had  wept  over  a  rather  lengthy 
list  of  wayward  daughters ;  in  fact,  one  of 
my  friends,  quite  an  admirer,  had  said : 
"Poor  Mr.  Stoddart !  I  never  see  him  act 
but  he  is  heartbroken  over  the  misconduct 
of  some  wayward  and  disobedient  child. 
The  last  time  I  saw  him,  in  l  The  Sporting 
Duchess/  he  was  in  a  most  forlorn  condi- 
tion regarding  the  fate  of  his  daughter 
Mary  Aylmer ;  and  the  time  before  he  was 
completely  upset  at  the  imprudent  be- 
havior of  his  child  in l  Saints  and  Sinners.' " 
A  little  of  "the  same  old  man  again,"  I 
confess,  but  I  console  myself  with  the  re- 
flection that  in  my  time  I  have  played  so 
many  rogues  and  vagabonds,  with  quite  a 
sprinkling  of  cutthroats  and  murderers, 
245 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

that  as  I  near  the  end  of  my  professional 
life  it  would  be  prudent  to  make  my  final 
bow  in  something  of  a  more  respectable 
nature.  Besides,  Lachlan  Campbell  is  not 
altogether  a  sympathetic  or  lovable  per- 
son 5  before  his  transformation  he  is  quite 
the  reverse. 

I  had  that  fact  brought  home  to  me  in 
Lancaster,  Pennsylvania.  One  of  the  stage- 
hands, watching  the  progress  of  the  piece, 
was  highly  incensed  when,  in  the  second 
act,  I  erase  my  daughter's  name  from  the 
Bible  and  forcibly  eject  her  from  the  house. 
"Oh,  the  old  devil ! "  said  he  to  one  of  my 
associates.  "Them  religious  fanatics  are 
the  worst.  1 >d  like  to  knock  the  old  vil- 
lain on  the  head."  In  the  third  act,  when 
Lachlan  sorrows  over  the  loss  of  his  child, 
he  found  a  better  place  in  the  esteem  of 
that  critical  gentleman,  who,  at  the  end  of 
the  piece,  where  Lachlan  takes  his  daughter 
lovingly  in  his  arms,  was  heard  to  exclaim, 
"The  old  man  is  not  so  bad,  after  all." 

"The  Bonnie  Brier  Bush"  I  regard  as 
a  pretty  little  play.  It  is  a  simple  story, 
and  its  atmosphere  is  peculiarly  congenial 
246 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

to  me,  reminding  me  of  that  part  of  Scot- 
land (Perthshire)  wherein  its  scenes  are 
laid,  and  where  as  a  boy  I  began  my  career 
as  an  actor.  And  if  Lachlan  Campbell  is  to 
be  my  last  effort,  there  is  something  beau- 
tifully fitting  in  ringing  down  the  final  cur- 
tain on  "Beside  the  Bonnie  Brier  Bush," 
so  suggestive  in  its  setting  of  my  earliest 
stage  days. 

Charles  Frohman  produced  "The  Only 
Way,"  with  Henry  Miller  as  the  star,  at 
the  Herald  Square  Theater,  September 
19,  1899,  and  I  then  rejoined  him  for  the 
part  of  Lorry.  My  old  friend  D.  H. 
Harkins,  whom  I  had  met  years  ago  in 
Montreal,  was  also  in  the  cast,  and  it  gave 
me  an  opportunity  of  renewing  an  acquain- 
tance made  when  we  were  both  much 
younger.  After  its  New  York  run  we 
toured  the  country  with  "The  Only  Way." 
Mr.  Miller's  performance  of  Carton  I  have 
always  admired.  I  am  indebted  to  him 
for  his  uniform  kindness  and  consideration 
during  the  period  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
being  associated  with  him. 

When  our  season  closed,  Mr.  Miller 
247 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PLAYER 

played  an  engagement  in  San  Francisco. 
The  success  achieved  was  well  deserved, 
for  the  company  was  a  fine  one,  consisting 
of  Frank  Worthing,  E.  J.  Morgan,  Charles 
"Walcot,  Miss  Margaret  Anglin,  Margaret 
Dale,  Mrs.  Thomas  Whiffen,  and  a  number 
of  other  well-known  people.  Mr.  Miller 
was  kind  enough  to  ask  me  to  go  with  him 
at  this  time  ;  his  season,  however,  being  a 
long  one,  and  necessitating  a  frequent 
change  of  bill,  I  felt  that  now  the  study 
would  be  too  arduous  for  me.  As,  how- 
ever, he  ended  his  season  with  "The  Only 
Way,"  my  old  friend  Harkins  and  I 
joined  him  for  that  production  and  played 
our  original  parts.  I  was  glad  of  an  op- 
portunity to  renew  the  acquaintance  of 
old  friends  at  "Frisco,"  and  more  than 
pleased  to  find  that  they  had  not  forgotten 
me.  The  business  for  the  two  weeks  dur- 
ing which  "The  Only  Way"  was  per- 
formed was  enormous,  and  there  is  no 
doubt  that  its  run  could  have  been  ex- 
tended for  a  considerable  time  had  not 
arrangements  been  made  for  its  produc- 
tion elsewhere.  The  company  played  in 
248 


KECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PLAYER 

most  of  the  important  cities  on  its  way 
home,  and  in  Salt  Lake  I  had  another 
chance  of  meeting  my  old  friends  who  had 
acted  with  me  in  "Saints  and  Sinners." 
On  this  occasion  we  were  pleasantly  en- 
tertained—Mr. Miller  and  I— by  Mr. 
Whitney,  at  whose  house  we  met  Gover- 
nor Wells  and  many  pleasant  people. 
Salt  Lake,  if  I  may  judge  from  my  own 
experience,  is,  for  its  size,  one  of  the  best 
of  theatrical  cities. 

Mr.  Miller,  whose  health  had  been  im- 
paired, was  obliged  to  retire  from  the 
company  when  we  reached  Colorado 
Springs,  deciding  that  it  was  necessary  to 
return  to  New  York  to  consult  his  physi- 
cian. His  part  in  "The  Only  Way"  was 
taken  by  Mr.  E.  J.  Morgan,  who  played 
the  part  at  a  few  hours'  notice  and  gave 
a  highly  creditable  performance.  We 
visited  Cleveland  and  Detroit,  and  in  due 
course  arrived  in  New  York. 

I  have  been  frequently  asked  for  my 
opinion  regarding  the  relative  merits  of 
performances  and  performers  of  the  pres- 
ent day  as  compared  with  those  of  the  old 
249 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

times.  In  fact,  very  recently  a  friend  said 
to  me :  "Mr.  Stoddart,  you  are  an  old- 
timer.  I  remember  you  when  you  used 
to  be  at  the  Broome  Street  Theater  with 
Wallack.  Why  can't  we  have  such  per- 
formances and  such  companies  nowadays  ?  " 
I  really  was  unable  to  make  a  satisfactory 
reply.  I  endeavored  to  explain  that  al- 
though my  long  experience  and  my  age 
truly  classified  me  as  an  old-timer,  yet  as 
I  had  been  in  harness  continually  since 
1854,  trying  always  to  keep  abreast  of  the 
times  and  the  younger  element,  and  as  far 
as  possible  to  avoid  being  considered  anti- 
quated, I  scarcely  thought  myself  a  proper 
judge.  A  comparison  of  the  old  with 
the  new  order  of  things  is  somewhat  dim- 
cult.  Mr.  Coghlan  and  Mr.  Thorne  I  re- 
garded as  modern  in  style,  and  I  considered 
them  both  artists  in  every  sense  of  the 
word.  On  the  other  hand,  Blake,  Burton, 
Gilbert,  Brougham,  Placide,  and  Fisher 
might  be  said  to  represent  the  old  school. 
Time,  I  imagine,  has  little  to  do  with 
ability.  'T  is  the  individual,  not  the 
period, 

250 


HECOLLECTIOlSrS   OF  A   PLAYER 

The  attention  given  to  production  is 
now  so  infinitely  more  careful  and  thor- 
ough than  in  the  old  days  as  to  admit  of 
no  comparison.  The  same  old  stock  sce- 
nery, formerly  used  year  after  year,  would 
be  looked  upon  as  a  very  poor  apology  for 
the  manner  in  which  plays  are  now  put 
upon  the  stage.  The  same  advancement 
applies  to  incidental  music,  and  in  fact  to 
all  the  details  connected  with  the  conduct 
of  the  theater.  To  those,  however,  enter- 
ing the  theatrical  profession  with  the  idea 
of  making  it  their  life-work,  I  say  that  I 
think  the  old  system  immeasurably  better 
than  that  of  the  present  time.  As  in  all 
occupations  it  is  well  to  be  grounded  in 
the  rudimental  portions  of  the  work,  so  no 
less  does  this  rule  apply  to  the  theatrical 
profession.  There  was  no  royal  road  to 
position  in  the  old  days,  but  most  people 
had  to  commence  at  the  bottom  of  the 
ladder  and  ascend  it  gradually,  the  goal 
being  its  top.  And  if  one  never  climbed 
very  high,  yet  the  very  strife  and  endeavor 
of  itself  gave  to  him  that  repose,  that  ease 
of  deportment,  which  I  think  quite  essen- 
251 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PLAYEK 

tial  in  the  actor.  Such  discipline  was 
formerly  deemed  necessary,  and  if,  after 
submitting  to  it,  one  was  not  found  par- 
ticularly brilliant,  one  was  at  least  ex- 
perienced, which  sometimes  means  much. 

"I  have  observed,"  said  my  friend,  "how 
distinctly  at  ease  and  self-possessed  are 
the  old  members  of  your  profession  when 
on  the  stage.  I  suppose  your  real  old- 
timer  never  knows  what  it  is  to  be  ner- 
vous." 

"My  dear  sir,"  I  said,  "he  is  the  one 
who  generally  suffers  most  in  that  respect. 
Mr.  Macready  was  always  greatly  upset  if 
there  was  the  slightest  noise  while  he  was 
acting.  Mr.  Charles  Kean  came  to  a  full 
stop  one  night,  and  remarked  to  the  au- 
dience :  t  Ladies  and  gentlemen  :  I  have 
been  so  distracted  by  the  talking  and  noise 
behind  the  scenes  that  it  has  completely 
driven  the  words  out  of  my  head.  I  must 
claim  your  indulgence  until  I  consult  the 
prompter.' " 

Mr.  John  Gilbert,  in  his  day  one  of  our 
most  striking  actors,  often  became  really 
ill  on  the  occasion  of  first-night  perform - 
252 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A   PLAYER 

ances.  I  can  remember  when  we  produced 
a  piece  called  " Progress"  at  Wallaces 
that  he  had  rehearsed  for  days  and  in  which 
he  was  letter-perfect.  But  at  night  he 
completely  balked.  When  he  came  off 
the  stage  he  said  :  "Mrs.  Gilbert  heard  me 
repeat  the  part  three  times  before  coming 
to  the  theater,  but  this  infernal  lack  of 
nerve  has  played  the  deuce  with  me." 

Oh,  how  many  times  the  old  stager  en- 
vies the  younger  player  who  sets  about  his 
work  undisturbed,  wondering  at  the  trepi- 
dation of  his  older  and  more  experienced 
associate  !  On  the  eve  of  a  new  produc- 
tion I  have  often  left  home  muttering 
over  the  words  of  some  long  part  and  very 
doubtful  as  to  the  result  of  my  efforts  ;  and 
on  my  return  my  wife,  who,  I  think,  was 
if  possible  more  nervous  for  me  than  I 
for  myself,  would  say,  "Well,  how  did  you 
get  on?"  And  if  I  answered,  as  I  fre- 
quently did,  that  I  feared  I  had  not  done 
very  well,  "Nonsense ! "  she  would  say, 
"how  did  your  part  go  with  the  audi- 
ence?" When  I  would  reply  that  I 
had  received  a  good  deal  of  applause, 
253 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A    PLAYER 

"Then,  dear,"  she  would  add,  "you  are 
all  right." 

In  reviewing  my  career  I  see  plenty  to 
find  fault  with,  even  in  my  own  estimation  ; 
but  as  an  old-timer  trying  to  keep  pace 
with  my  younger  companions,  I  have  had 
to  assume  so  many  different  roles  that  it 
is  scarcely  to  be  expected  that  I  should 
have  proved  satisfactory  in  all.  I  think  I 
can  in  all  truthfulness  assert  that  to  what- 
ever work  has  been  allotted  me  I  have  en- 
deavored always  to  bring  sincerity  of  pur- 
pose, and  whether  good,  bad,  or  indiffer- 
ent parts  have  been  my  portion  have  ever 
tried  to  serve  the  public  to  the  best  of  my 
ability.  And  it  is  this  thought  of  being 
"  all  righ  twith  the  public,"  the  kind  con- 
sideration and  indulgence  on  its  part  under 
all  circumstances,  ever  lenient  toward  my 
faults  and  quick  to  show  appreciation  of 
any  merit  I  might  possess,  that  has  been 
my  main  support  during  a  long  career. 

In  conclusion,  I  trust  that  the  theater- 
goer of  to-day,  as  well  as  the  younger  mem- 
bers of  my  profession,  will  not  regard  these 
pages  as  altogether  without  value,  and  that 
254 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A  PLAYER 

they  will  be  interested  with  me  in  taking 
a  retrospective  view  of  bygone  days. 

The  old  times,  the  many  brilliant  com- 
rades who  have  left  me  behind,  must  ever 
hold  the  first  place  in  my  recollections. 

Time  but  the  impression  stronger  makes, 
As  streams  their  channels  deeper  wear. 


255 


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•  1-year  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing 
books  to  NRLF 

•  Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4 
days  prior  to  due  date. 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


JUL281998 


APR 


1  5  ZOOb 


12,000(11/95) 


